#it's a heavy one today lads

[satohqbanana]

There is a clear difference between knowing one thing and being made to feel that it's a fact. And right now, I'm doubting if the people who claim to like or love me actually feel that way, or are just pretending to do so.

[arctic-hands]

I would have made a damn great mortician if I could actually be around embalming fluid without becoming violently ill 😔

[princessmyriad]

.

[thequeenofcarvenstone]

.

[not-that-taliesin]

i think the main thing that bothers me is that folks will say “lesbians are non-men attracted to non-men!” and rail against anyone who describes themselves in a different way. like, it’s as if they imagine these people are calling themselves lesbians while lusting over a bunch of cis men or something, when in reality it’s mostly people whose partners are genderqueer/genderfluid, transmascs and trans men who may still feel connected to the lesbian community, especially if they were part of it pre-transition, people who don’t fit the gender binary themselves but find truth in the lesbian label—there’s a million good reasons, the most important of which is “words are descriptive, not prescriptive, and if you expect every queer identity to have a set definition that’s easily digestible, then you’ve missed the point of what queer really means.”

anyways, i’m a he/him nonbinary genderqueer sapphic fagdyke tranny butch and my lovers have been gay men, lesbians, bisexuals and pansexuals, folks who are questioning and folks who have changed since i knew them. we use these labels as shorthand, but to see these labels and think you know what i’m all about is to boldly assume the same from knowing my left pinkie.

[lovifie]

Hiii 🩷

I really loved your ‘Mr & Mrs. Price’ story where his partner he is marrying is younger than him! I was wondering if you had anymore of those stories?

If not, I was wondering if you could write a little after they get married sort of thing. Like would they have kids right away, etc.

Thank you!!

Hi love!! 🩷🩷 Thank you for asking so nicely 💕

At the moment I don't have anything else written for Price and her younger wife, so I'll write you a little bit of what I thought would happen after the wedding.

A continuation to Mr. & Mrs. Price

Suggestive | 730 words | Back to Masterlist

The first thing would be the honeymoon, and Price gives me the vibes to go somewhere cold, like the Norwegian Fjords (? I don't know why, he just does. Constantly clinging to his wife like: "I'm cold, dear. Can't you see?" Only to sneaky get his hands under your clothes.

Friends and family complain about how little photos you took, but it's just because most of what you took, were taken inside your room. So many, so many pictures of his hand on your body, the gold band on his finger shining on all of them.

So much fluffy/dirty talk. "My dear, wifey... See? I told you I was going to marry you one day, and look at you, Mrs.Price... so fucking beautiful under me..."

Neither of you are surprised when a couple of months later you get a positive pregnancy test.

"We used protection..." Price says, as if that would change something.

"Yeah... Until we run out, Mr. I Pulled Out." You say.

Having a child so quickly after the wedding was neither of your plans, but Price was already talking about taking a step back from the dangerous mission and for some reason neither of you were panicking after the news.

It was a weird feeling, at first at least. But on the doctor appointment, when you hear the little alien's heartbeat it was set. Price's hand holding yours, the whole way back home.

He did step back from the dangerous mission, working at base helping the recruits and helping on the small missions, not wanting to be far from you. So he spent his working hours at base, and one day he forgot some documents at home and asked if you could bring them to him.

So you did.

You grabbed the folder, and drove your pregnant self to base.

Ghost was the one who saw you first, almost as you stepped off the car. And he was immediately on your side, stunned when he saw your belly.

"Are you..." He asked, not wanting to be rude; looking from your stomach to your face.

You quickly nod, the man's eyebrows disappearing under his mask. He took the folder from your hands, as if it was a heavy piece of furniture you were holding making you laugh. "Congratulations... That's what people say, right?"

You nod again, holding onto his arm to ease his mind as you walk towards Price's office. Small talk about how you were planning a baby shower and if he would like to assist, the panic clear on his face making you chuckle again.

"I'm pulling your leg, Simon. I'll send you a message with the important news." You say, patting his arm.

"And I will be forever grateful for it." He says, slowly falling in a comfortable chat with you.

Gaz and Soap walk out of Price's office just as you turn the corner. Both their expression of shock.

"Captain!" Soap calls him, annoyed with just finding out. "Ye got yer missus pregnant already? Ye filthy dog."

Price furrows his eyebrows, walking out and smiling widely. Quickly walking to you to give a kiss on the lips, his hands resting on your tummy.

"How are my girls doing, sweetheart?" He asks, Simon hearing it perfectly.

"Girls? You are having a baby girl?" He asks, making Gaz and Soap repeat it as echo.

You chuckle again, taking the fold from Ghost's hand and handing it to Price. "We are doing great today, John. Here's the documents, Simon wouldn't let me hold them myself."

"Good lad." He says, nodding at the mancunian making you shake your head.

Unlike Ghost, Gaz actually asks you about the baby shower and if he can assist. Price doesn't say anything, but he is really glad he offered; having now a familiar face at the party.

And even though only Gaz assists in person, he brings a present. "From Ghost, Soap and I, hope the girly likes it. Whenever she uses it."

He says that because the gift is a bright pink toy car for the baby to drive around.

Price complains about the safety of it, but later at night when everyone is gone he sits on the sofa, looking at you drive the car yourself talking about how you always wanted one as a kid. And Price is not sure how he got this lucky in life.

[mythicmanuscripts]

And here I thought Aegon makes his wive sit on the throne so he can sit on her lap :D

Okay so I know this ask was just meant to be a joke but it kinda send me on a spiral and now I have too many thoughts about all the different ways the characters would a share thrown with you/hold court with you. And since this anon caused this, I’m gonna use them to share my thoughts because if I have to deal with it then so do you lads.

AEGON:

So as I mentioned in the ask that sparked all of this, I think Aegon would enjoy sitting on the stairs below the thrown and letting you sit on the thrown. He especially loves it because he can look up at you. This tends to be what he chooses when he wants you to do the heavy lifting? If he’s is not feeling up to it or if he knows there’s a matter he doesn’t quite understand enough he’ll sit on the sit on the stairs and then defer to you when he gets stuck.

Also he’s absolutely a fan of sitting on your lap. This is the one he goes for when he’s feeling perfectly fine and just wants to be close to you. He’ll especially choose this when you’ve been away for a while? He’s extremely clingy if he has to go more than a few hours without you and so when you return he will be attached to your side for the next few days.

AEMOND:

Aemond is another who will absolutely refuse to let you sit on a smaller thrown or chair next to the thrown. He sees that as extremely disrespectful to you. You are his wife!!!

(Along the same line, he gets rid of the consort title. He will not allow you to just be for show and have no actual recognised power. You are equal, and he’s not afraid to cut someone down for calling you queen consort and not just queen)

I think Aemond’s absolute favourite might be you sitting on his lap? Doesn’t matter how heavy you are, he will not allow you to try and hover or keep your weight of him, absolutely not. He’ll literally just grab you by the waist and pull you back. He loves that position so so much, with you either perched on his knee or laying across his lap. He always keeps a hand around your waist and whenever he wants your opinion on someone he’ll rest his head on your shoulder or nuzzle his cheek against yours.

Because of him getting rid of the consort title, you will sometimes hold court without him? He’s beyond happy with this, because he trusts your judgement implicitly and honestly if he has to listen to commoners and lords asks things of him for hours every day he might just burn down the entire fucking kingdom.

Anyway, so quite down you’ll end up in a situation where you’re holding court and Aemond joins halfway through?? He’ll just causally walk through the doors and across the thrown room to where you sit. He doesn’t even allow the guards to announce his arrival. He doesn’t want all that attention, his wife is the one holding court not him.

He’ll walk across the room and up the stairs to the thrown, and then instead of asking you to stand up he’ll just sit on the arm of the thrown? He rests his arm over the back of the thrown and you wrap an arm around his waist to steady him. He just sits there, doesn’t make any comment unless you ask him directly. If someone tries to address him he just goes, "Speak to my queen, I'm not here to answer today"

JACE:

So I definitely think Jace's initial plan would be to get a second thrown of some kind built. Obviously it can't be a replica of the actual iron thrown, but he'd want you to have your own space.

While plans are beginning to be formed around getting a new thrown to put next to the iron throne, Jace obviously continues to rule and he refuses to have you stand in the corner or with the ladies of the court.

He calls you over and you stand next to the thrown. You end up standing at his side, and Jace finds that he really likes you standing over him? At some point you sit on the arm of the iron thrown and Jace immediately wraps his arm around your waist to ensure you stay balanced. That ends up being the way you most often sit, and Jace loves it.

I think Jace especially loves it because of how easily he can have a whispered conversation with you? He just tilts his head up and you look down and then you're close enough to speak very very softly. In fact sometimes Jace will even put his hand up in front of your faces to that the others in the court can't even see his lips move.

POLY!DAEMON AND RHAENYRA:

(This idea is absolutely perfect for this poly ship and I really want to write more about them so I'm gonna do that here)

Things are obviously even more complicated here with there being three of you. At first you don't even consider being anywhere near the iron thrown. Daemon and Rhaenyra are married, they are the actual rulers of the kingdom. Sure you warm their bed but you don't even consider that this position could give you some power. You're happy for it to be a secret, or at the very least for it to not be advertised.

Meanwhile, neither Daemon nor Rhaenyra consider the option that you won't have some sort of special place in the thrown room. So I think it would work like this: it takes YEARS for the relationship between the three of you to form, with Daemon and Rhaenyra spending many nights talking about you and sharing frustrations over how badly they wish they could just straight up ask to court or marry you, and by the time the relationship actually forms Rhaenyra has already been crowned queen. There's a few weeks of the three of you sleeping together and hiding the relationship. Eventually the three of you admit that you all want it to always be the three of you, and you officially join the relationship.

After this happens, they announce it to everyone and while of course people are sceptic, they know better than to talk bad about you when both of your partners have dragons.

The first time Rhaenyra holds court after you make it official, you enter the thrown room with Daemon, the two of you walking behind Rhaenyra. Daemon walks up the thrown with Rhaenyra and sitting down on his chair next to the thrown. Both him and Rhaenyra immediately look around to see where you have gone. Rhaenyra spots you first, and frowns when she sees you're standing with the ladies of the court.

"What are you doing there?" she asks, confused. Before you can respond, Daemon is already up and walking to you. He takes your hand and brings you up the stairs. You try to say it's not necessary, but neither of them will hear it.

At first you end up sitting on the chair Daemon usually used and while he sat perched on the arm of Rhaenyra's thrown. This works well, until someone asks something that Rhaenyra wants your thoughts on. When daemon realises this, he jumps up and tells you to swop places with him.

Eventually three of you reach a pretty good arrangement of you and Daemon sitting on the arms of the iron thrown and Rhaenyra sitting on the actual thrown. Occasionally one of you will sit on the stairs below Rhaenyra but mostly it's both of you on the arms.

It's worth noting that Rhaenyre is absolutely DELIGHTED with this arrangement and regularly pulls one of you down by your chin for a kiss.

[cod-fishing]

Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.

When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.

He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.

“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”

He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…

He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.

Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?

Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.

It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.

Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.

“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”

“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”

And, even worse than all that, somehow…

“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”

And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.

And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.

Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 6 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Ok, I forgoed the heavy cliffhanger I wanted to end it on but still have one none the less so don't get too cocky! Lol <3.

Warnings: Dom Officer Harrington/Gangster Munson & Sub Doctor Fem Reader, no smut today, lads!

Lots of angst! Eddie was arrested and Y/N gets interrogated. Mentions of deaths involving gunshots, child abuse from Eddie's father mentioned, Eddie hurt pretty bad in this (black eye, bruises, and burns) but not mentioned in in-depth detail. Reader is attacked by someone in her apartment but is rescued.

Word Count: 4271

Series here/ Donate to my Ko-Fi

Falling out the side building, Steve looked around jumping to the ground and reached up for you to do the same. Taking your hand, you both ran to your car and he opened the door for you ushering you in. 

After speeding away, he paused on the side of the road to catch his bearings and check his phone. 

“Shit. They called me like 10 times. FUCK!”, he growls as he slams his hands on the steering wheel. “I could have warned him. I could’ve—”

“Steve, this isn’t your fault; it’s Gabe’s.”, you try to soothe as you rub his back. 

“I need to see what they know and where they are putting him for the time being. Just go home and wait there, ok?”

“What if the cops come?”

The officer sighs as he intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“If they do, just remember what we taught you.” As you nod, he hastily leans down and kisses your lips. “Everything will be ok, honey.”

***

Two hours later, the cops did come for you insisting it was just to talk; not even putting handcuffs on you as you rode in the police cruiser to the station. Leading you to an integration room, you waited another thirty minutes before Steve and the detective you had seen him with before open the door. 

“Hey Y/N. It’s good to see you again. I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m—”

“Detective Hopper…and this is Officer Harrington. I remember you two.”

“Good. Very good.”, he grins warmly. “Is there anything you need before we begin?”

“Begin what exactly? I was told I’m not under arrest so what AM I here for?”

“Huh. So you haven’t heard Eddie Munson was arrested this morning?”

“What? No, I hadn’t. You people woke me up to come here! Why did you arrest him?! He hasn’t done anything wrong!” Your eyes narrowed as you faked shock. 

“Calm down, Miss Y/L/N. We’re just asking questions, ok?”, Steve sighed your way with annoyance laced in his tone. “You are dating a gangster.”

“I’m dating a businessman. He’s not the monster you people make him out to be. And it’s DOCTOR Y/L/N, asshole.”

“Well, if I may doctor, do you know this man here?”

Detective Hopper slides an image of your ex across the table towards you. 

“Yeah, I mean that’s my ex from college Gabriel Wiley but I haven’t seen him sense he went in almost three years ago. Why and what does this have to do with Eddie?”

“It seems he had some information in regard to your boyfriend that could put him away for a long time.”

“I hope you didn’t take him seriously because Gabe was a notorious liar.”

“Hm, well unfortunately we’ll never find that out from him or anything else he wanted to tell us.” 

While waiting for him to continue your eyes flick towards Steve whose features seem to paint more than just worry along his face. He knows something but he hasn’t been able to tell you or Eddie yet. Sliding another picture your way, your eyes widen as you gasp. 

“He was murdered sometime last night.”

A commotion suddenly erupts outside with officers shouting for backup. The door to your room flies open as the gangster quickly slides to your side and grabs your hand. 

“Listen to me, Y/N. Don’t listen to a thing they say, alright? I didn’t kill him. I swear on my mother, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you like that!” As Eddie’s pleas tumble out, policemen tackle him and force the cuffs onto him again as they begin to drag him back out into the lobby. “I didn’t kill him, Y/N! Please! Believe me! I didn’t do this!”

Glancing towards Steve again, you notice he’s wearing that sarcastic smirk you had seen many times but it didn’t match the frightened look that reflected back in his own eyes. It was taking everything in him to be calm and appear unphased as his world fell apart. 

“Don’t tell me you really think he killed Gabe?  Edward Munson isn’t capable of murder.”, you growled. “Plus, we were together last night.”

“Doing what?”

“Take a guess.”, you spit.

“Control your tone, little girl.”, Steve sasses making the other officer roll his eyes. 

“Harrington, calm down. Miss—Dr. Y/L/N—we’re still doing an autopsy to find out when Mr. Wiley was murdered but at this time we have to ask, you don’t think he’d kill him out of jealousy? I mean this is your ex threatening to expose him. Of course, he’d—”

“Of course…because he comes from a crime ridden family my boyfriend would HAVE to have it in him to hurt someone like that, right? Eddie isn’t like his father. Plus, something like this doesn’t reflect a crime of passion.”

“What do you mean?”

Again, your eyes shift towards Steve who now genuinely seems to be interested in your theory. 

“Gabe was shot in the head from what I see here. It’s too clean…as if someone wanted to just do this job quick and get it over with. If this WAS jealousy there would be more signs of trauma or he would have used a weapon more personal like a knife.”

“So, who else would want Mr. Wiley dead then?”

“You said he was going to sell out Eddie and you believe Eddie took over his father’s empire…” Steve stands up straighter at your implicated as the detective seems more confused making you huff. “Jesus and you’re a detective? It has to be someone who was trying to protect Allen.”

“Someone in his gang you think?”

“Well…only officers knew Gabe was going to make a statement right?”

Hopper’s eyes darken as he glares in your equally angry irises.

“That’s a big leap you’re making, Y/N.”

“Is it, Jim?”, you ask sarcastically squaring your shoulders. “I want Eddie out of here now.”

“Once we can confirm your alibi for him with the time of death and we finish searching his building he’s all yours. You may leave now.”

Gathering your things, you fume as you stomp out of the interrogation room and head for your car. Purposely leaving something behind, you wait in your vehicle until Steve finally runs out with your phone in his hand. 

“You did so fucking good, honey. Are you ok? I’m sorry. They just told me about Gabe before we walked into the room.”

“I know. I know. I trust you. We need to get Eddie out of there, Steve. He’s not safe.”

“I’m doing everything I can to hurry these results. Thankfully, he was able to get a message to Jeff and the guys were able to hide all the supplies so they haven’t found anything nor will they.”

“Do you have any idea who would kill Gabe to silence him?”

“No and I feel like a fucking idiot for not thinking of that. I can’t be the only dirty cop right?”

“Sweetheart, you protect him and me, not every criminal in Hawkins.”, you try to sooth as you lightly touch his hand that was resting on your car. 

“I’m going to focus on getting him out. Go back to your apartment and hopefully the next time I see you…he’ll be with me.”

##############

18 hours. 

18 long arduous hours past and you still hadn’t heard anything. You called into work siting illness and left one of your nurses in charge. You barely sat down for a moment, refusing to sleep as you paced. 

When someone knocked on your door, you didn’t even hesitate as you ran to open it. 

“Oh. Hi. Um, can I help you?”, you asked to the stranger in front of you. 

“Yes, are you Y/N? Steve said I should wait here.”

“May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Wayne, Eddie’s uncle.”, he announced as he walked past you and took a seat on your sofa. “Fucking Allen. I tried to go to the police station to raise hell but they wouldn’t let my nephew go. I went to the prison to try and talk to him but his father spoke to me instead. Said that Eddie was ‘indisposed’.” At his words, your eyes widened in fear as you ran towards your phone. “Steve said the results came in so he’s bringing him here soon.”

“O-Ok.”, you stutter as you sit beside him before immediately rising to your feet again. “W-Would you like anything? Any coffee or?”

“No, sweetheart, I’m fine. Thank you. It’s nice to finally meet you. He talks about you and Steve all the time. He calls you two his Paladin and his Princess.”, he chuckles making you smile. “I’m glad he’s happy. After everything that boy has been through he deserves it.”

Your front door abruptly opens with Jeff and Steve carrying an unconscious Eddie over each of their shoulders with Gareth trailing behind. Your doctor mode promptly kicked in as they placed him on your bed and you checked him over. 

“He passed out in the car. I’m surprised he was able to even fucking walk out of the station.”, the officer relayed with a shake in his tone. “I don’t know what they did to him but…”

“I imagine it was Allen. If your theory about an officer is correct, that same officer could have told him that he hadn’t followed through with killing the ex. This would be punishment.”, Wayne responded as he watched you work. 

“It’s Eddie’s gang. He can do what he wants.”, Garth growled. 

“Not to Allen, son.”

“Eddie, baby. Can you open your eyes and look at me?”, you asked in a stern but comforting voice as you caressed his cheek. He was littered in bruises especially along his stomach and face. His eye was beginning to swell and his nose had dried blood underneath it staining his skin. What killed you the most where what looked like cigarette burns on his arms. “Jeff, in my kitchen under the cabinet I have a first aid kit with some burn cream and bandages meant for burns. Can you bring that to me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I brought this from my apartment. I didn’t know if…” Steve hands you the medicine you prescribed him for his own bruises making you smile up at him as you kiss his hand. 

“I don’t think anything’s broken but—”

“Can you boys go back to his building and assess what the police did? If anything is out of place or missing let Steve or myself know. Please be careful. If this is a cops doing…” Both men nod as they run off to do what Wayne commanded. Pulling the officer aside, they whisper to each other as you focus. “What did you find out?”

“Gabe reached out to the station from a hotel outside of town. One officer answered and two others went to pick him up. They were the ones who reported his body. Eddie’s guy dropped him off at 1am, he texted her at 3am… his time of death was estimated between 3 and 3:30.” As he said his last sentence, Steve’s eyes locked with your own. 

You ex most likely texted you believing that someone was there to protect him before being murdered. You were the last person to hear from him. At the time they knew you wouldn’t but Eddie had offered to drive you to where he was. If for some reason you said you wanted to be with Gabe instead of them, you would most likely be dead to.

“I’m so sorry, honey.”

You nod as you turn away and place an ice pack on the gangsters abs. 

“I’m going to do some research on those cops. When did they report the ex’s body?”

“Around 5. They left the station around 4.”

“Ok…I’ll still do a check but…I’ll be back. Keep me updated, Steven.”

The officer nodded after him as Wayne left the apartment and grabbed one of your dining room chairs so he could sit near you both but not be in the way. 

“What does he do; Eddie’s uncle?”, you mumble. 

“He used to be a manager at one of the plants over here. Did that till Ed graduated. After, he got into private eye work helping families reconnect and shit like that. He’s actually really good at it.”, he smirks as his sad eyes watch you finish taping his partner’s arm. “Is he gonna be ok?”

“I think so. It seems like his dad…wanted to torture him…more than kill him.” As you begin to sob, Steve collects you in his arms and places you on his lap. “I don’t understand how a parent could do something like this.”

“Because Allen isn’t a parent; never fucking was. The Munson’s in those early years were extremely ruthless and vindictive. He killed for pleasure and ran his side of town like a fucking dictator. He was the same way with Eddie. From what he told me anyway. Abandoning him with Wayne was the best thing that asshole ever did for him.”

While Steve passed out beside him holding the gangster’s hand, you stayed awake constantly checking on his progress and making sure he was still breathing. Not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, you fell asleep in the chair beside him with your head against the mattress. 

***

Waking up with a start, you gasped before calming yourself when you realized everything was alright, it had just begun to lightly rain outside. Steve was gone but left a note by your hand saying he left to go meet Wayne and get some more details but he’d be back in a few hours. 

After quickly checking over Eddie, you headed down your hall towards your kitchen to get some water but as soon as you crossed the threshold of the hallway something hard collided with your face. Falling to the floor, you try to collect yourself but whoever hit you was faster, pinning you to the ground and wrapping their hands around your neck.

You tried to scream but you couldn’t breathe as you slowly began losing air. The world around you began to go dark and you knew soon you’d be gone. 

The person above you abruptly howled in pain, falling to his side as you rolled over and coughed trying to collect as much oxygen as you could. You heard the struggle behind you before silence suddenly fell over the room. When a bloody hand touched your hip, you begin to limply fight back.

“It’s me. It’s me, sweetheart. It’s me. Are you ok?”, Eddie asked as crawled closer to you. 

A broken cry escaped you as you circled your arms around his neck and he clung you tightly to his chest. The door to your apartment quietly opened but as the officer came around the corner he was anything but.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck happened? Are you two alright?!”, Steve asked as he skidded to his knees and Wayne turned on the lights. 

When he tried to touch you to check on you, you didn’t even look his way as you held on to the gangster tighter and buried your face in the nook of his neck. Eddie could feel your hands and body still shaking and it killed him. 

“It looks like we were right, Steven.”, Eddie’s uncle sighs as he pulls his nephew’s knife out of the other officer’s back. “Officer Douglas…I guess he came here to finish Gabe’s job. He’s still alive. Was there anything else you wanted to get out of him or can we do this quickly and cleanly?”

“Leave him there.”, Eddie answered for him flatly as he placed his palm against the back of your head, petting your hair tenderly.”

“Edward, this is a cop. Are you sure you want to—”

“LEAVE HIM THERE!” Steve jumped at his loud growl, never hearing this particular tone before from the man he loved.

Giving him a final nod, Wayne patted the other man’s shoulder comfortingly before heading out the door and leaving you three alone. Unsure of what to do next, Steve kicked into the only other gear he knew, grabbing another one of your chairs from the dining room and dragging the knocked-out officer to it before tying his hands behind his back.

“Look at me, baby. Let me see you.”, Eddie cooed as his hands cupped your face and tilted your head back. You had a cut above your eye that was beginning to swell and purple bruises were starting to form around your neck from where the man had choked you. “Do you think can stand so we can sit on the couch?”, he whispered.

Without waiting for an answer, Steve bent down and lifted you into his arms, placing you on the sofa before coming back to take Eddie’s hand and guiding him to sit beside you. You both listened as he headed towards your room and came back with the first aid materials he saw you use on his partner. 

While you watched the officer fumble with getting everything together, the gangster kept his eyes you, taking note of your silent but seemingly calm demeanor. Sitting on your coffee table, Steve cleaned your wound carefully trying not to cause you anymore pain. As he started tearing open the bandage, you reached out to stop him, lightly tapping his hand and pointing towards the gauze squares. 

When he finishes his task, he glances over at Eddie, silently asking if he needs any first aid but the man shakes his head. 

“I’ll keep an eye on him. You two go lay down.”

After rising to your feet, you took the gangster’s hand and slung his arm behind your neck as you guided him back your bedroom. As you curled up in his side, his fingers absently played with your hair as he glared up at the ceiling. Not being able to control it, you began to cry again as he held you tighter to his body. 

“Whenever my dad would scream and yell at men in our house, my mom used to hold me by her side just like this.  After she died, he started screaming at me.  I could never do anything right and he accused me constantly of being weak like her.” 

You didn’t move or acknowledge you were listening but he knew you were, turning his head till his check rested on your forehead.

“That last year was the worst… he needed to get through to me, he said. He hired some of his goons to jump me when I was walking home from school to beat the shit out of me. When I was 12, Wayne said he wouldn’t tolerate this anymore. ‘Give me Eddie and I’ll take care of him.’ My dad dropped me off three hours later… I told myself when I took over that I would never treat any of my men the way he treated me and I don’t. He still has people though that are loyal to the ‘original true Munson’. They helped him carry out this particular punishment.”

As he murmured his last couple of words, you pushed up on your elbow to look at his face and his sad, heavy eyes met yours. 

“I think it’s my turn to punish Allen… starting with that fucker out there…”

There was a darkness that clouded his eyes then. Something you had never seen before, rattling you slightly as you blinked and laid your head back down against his chest. 

###############

That morning when you woke up, you were alone but you could hear their voices as they spoke in your living room. 

“How many more cops work for Allen?”, Steve asked angerly to the man tied to the chair. 

“You know, Harrington, I never would have taken you for dirty. You could have been making way more money if you picked the right Munson.”

Ringed fingers grabbed the other officer’s throat violently as Eddie pressed his nose to his own. 

“You attacked and almost killed someone important to us. No matter what you aren’t going to leave this building alive but you’re the one that gets to choose if it’s quick or a slow, agonizing, painful death. Be lucky you’re getting the fucking option.”, he spat he let the man go and punched him hard in the stomach. 

“What does it…matter…freak?”, Officer Douglas coughed. “Your father has allies everywhere. That bitch was marked for death and it will happen. Wait until he finds out you’re fucking a cop to. He’ll probably follow through with finally killing your ass!”

“Did you kill Gabe?”, you asked as all heads shift your way.

“Fuck you.”, he cursed causing Steve to punch his face, spraying blood on the floor.

“She asked you something. Fucking answer.”

The other man chuckled as he threw his head back to glare your way. 

“Yeah, I killed him. I’d like to tell you he went out like a man but little shit cried begging, fucking BEGGING, for us to spare you. ‘Please! Please! She’s a good woman! Leave her be! Wa-wa.’”

You have no idea what came over you but you flew towards him, swiftly taking Eddie’s knife in your hand, and pointing it at the man’s throat. 

“You won’t do it, little girl.”

“Oh yeah? You killed someone I cared about, tried to kill me, and then you and your little fake gang of nostalgic assholes hurt one of the men I love. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re weak. Just. Like. Them.”, he grumbled sassily.

Who you were and you were becoming began fighting within your brain as the knife began to quiver in your grasp. You wanted nothing more than to hurt this man like he had you but you were scared. A steady breath warmed the back of your neck as Eddie’s palm slid down your arm and he wrapped his own hand around yours holding the weapon. 

“Don’t think about it. If you think about it, you’ll talk yourself out of it.”, he whispered. 

“Eddie—”

“Shut the fuck up Steve.”, the gangster growled as his other arm wrapped around your stomach and pressed your back against him. “You can do it, pretty girl. You aren’t weak are you?”

“No.”

“Louder.”

“No, sir. I’m NOT weak.”

“Then do it, princess. Do you think he was going to show you any mercy when he had his hands around your throat? No. He was going to fucking kill you. Return the favor.”

Before you could do anything, a loud bang from Steve’s gun filled your ears as they began to ring and Eddie lightly pushed you away from him, taking his knife from your grasp. 

“I know you’re hurting and these last few days have been rough but that does not give you license to play with her like that.”, Steve sneered in anger towards his partner. “If she wants to kill someone, that’s up to her. If she wanted to kill him, I would have let her but what you just did…trying to force her…”

“I wasn’t forcing her. I was encouraging.”

“Bullshit.”

“She needs to become stronger for what’s in store, Steven. More people are going to come after her until it gets through to Allen that I’M in charge. I know the line has been blurred because of our relationship but let me remind me of something, babe. I’m the gangster and I run a business. Jason was smart enough to back away but my father isn’t and it’s my turn to teach him a lesson. ANYONE who is loyal to that man will be put down. I’m done playing nice guy.”

“Edward Munson—”

“What, Steven Harrington? Are you going to throw me in jail and turn yourself in? Yeah, now we know what your police force does with people like that so give it a go.” The officer cocks his gun again and points the barrel towards his boyfriend’s head. “What are you going to do, sweetheart, huh? You’re gonna kill me?”

Tears stung Steve’s eyes as his hand began to shake.

“Please, honey, don’t do this. If you do, I’m going to lose you anyway because Allen will kill you.”

Standing up straighter, Eddie, pressed his forehead further into the weapon as if to challenge him. 

“So be it.”

Another gun cocking echoed through the apartment as you held it up towards the officer in front of you.

“Drop it, Steve.”

“I can’t do that, Y/N.”

“Now, Steven, or I swear to God…”

Feeling defeated, the officer lowered his weapon and tucked it back into his holster as you turned your own on the gangster himself.

“I understand why you feel like you need to this and I’m not going to try to stop you but you need to heal and you need to be smart about this.”

“I don’t need to be anything, little girl. I already told you that neither of you have a say in what I do and this will not stand.”

Growling low in your throat, you place the gun on the counter.

“And I already told you that I’m involved whether you like it or not. Someone just tried to kill me again but this time they almost succeeded. Now, you will get back in bed and rest while Steve cleans up the mess here. Do I make myself clear, little boy?”

Steve’s eyebrow quirks as Eddie’s eyes darken further.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.” Matching his stance, your chest comes level with his as your glare up at him. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

###############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon 

[didhewinkback]

thirty, flirty and thriving

a something old blurb for the birthday boy. 2 and a half months late but who's counting

word count: essentially 3k, warnings: none

---

He can feel tears prick his eyes the second they all start in on the song. All of his favorite people in one place, just for him, gathered around the cake you’re holding up. Suppose he’s someone who cries at birthdays now. 

He’s just…bloody overwhelmed. Perhaps it’s all the tequila flowing through his veins but it feels like more than that. Thinking about how you somehow managed to surprise him with all these people to celebrate his birthday, that his friends - some of whom he hasn’t spoken to in ages, ranging from the lads from school to the friends he made in LA when he was 22 - all made the trek to London to be with him tonight. How he’s often the youngest in his group of friends and how it feels like just yesterday that meant being 19 in a group of 30 year olds and now it's being 30 in a group of friends on the other side of 40. 

He’s fucking thirty. 

It should send him into a spiral about where the time has gone and how it went by so bloody quick but right now, he’s just grateful for where it’s landed him. Right here. Surrounded by his favorite people on the planet, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of the woman he’s going to marry, his best friend in the entire world. Ten years ago, he was getting monstrously drunk at a club with Grimmy and their mates, feeling both on top of the world and more alone than ever in ways only an incredibly famous 20 year old can. But here and now, he feels settled. He feels good. Like he’s lived a thousand lifetimes but also like he’s just getting started. 

“....happppy birthday to yOouUuUou” everyone sings, all eyes on him as they wait for him to blow out the candles. He places his palm to his chest, trying to lock eyes with as many people as humanly possible, trying to say thank you with a look, doesn’t want to do a speech, not now. He just loves these people, he loves this life, he loves his birthday and –

He feels an elbow in his side and looks over at you, your face aglow from the absurd amount of candles you’ve squeezed onto the cake - he’s 30, not 87, thanks - your eyebrows raised in expectation. 

“Cake’s fucking heavy, mate” you say and he throws his head back in laughter, smacking a kiss to your head before looking back out at the party. 

“Sorry - know the wax ‘s getting everywhere, but just wanted to say -” he says, taking a deep breath, vision blurring a bit. “‘M so lucky and feel so grateful to you all for being here. Thank you’s never going to be enough. But you’ve all made me into the man I am today ‘nd I wouldn’t be me without you. So thank you and I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And with that, he takes a deep breath, squeezing you close and making a wish, wishing for every birthday to feel just like this, for the ability to make everyone in this room feel like they’re making him feel now as he blows all the candles out in one swoop. The party erupts in cheers and whoops and he barely has time to press another kiss to your cheek before he’s pulled back into the fray, bombarded with an endless stream of hugs, kisses, people rubbing his head and pressing glasses of tequila into his hand. He just feels like he could burst, is the thing. A room full of people who know him and love him and don’t want or need anything from him, just want to celebrate him for who he is. They’ve turned the music back on and he sways his hips and stomps his feet as he knocks back another glass, letting the beats wash over him as he gets lost in the crowd of friends.

It’s later, he’s tucked in a booth with the lads as he takes in the room around him, though it’s spinning a bit more than it was before. Tom’s got his arm around him and is telling the 18th embarrassing anecdote of the night, trying in vain to bury the fact that just moments ago he got a bit teary when he spoke about the first time they met. And that’s when he sees you across the way, laughing about something with Johnny. His eyes trace the line of your neck as you tilt your head back, the curve of your jaw, and then, as if you can sense him, your eyes lock with his. 

It never gets old, this. It feels like electric currents are buzzing through his system when you smile at him, that just for him smile,  as he tilts his head towards the doors leading out back, once, twice, three times, topping it off with a dramatic roll of his neck until you’re smirking, already making your way up to stand. He taps Tom on the thigh before sliding out of the booth and making his way over to where you’re waiting by the doors, instantly wrapping his arm around your waist and burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as the two of you duck outside. 

It’s cold, but the heaters and fire pits around the patio help and he wraps himself around your back, matching you step for step as you head over to the corner railings, away from any prying eyes. You lean against the railing, looking up at the night sky, what you can make of it from the city lights. He wraps his arms tighter around you, nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“Y’ cold?” he asks and you’re shaking your head but he feels you shiver against him and that’s all the answer he needs, already pulling his suit jacket off despite your protests, and holding it out for you to put it on. “C’mon, ‘s my birthday wish.”

You shake your head and snort, sliding your arms into the jacket and turning around, wrapping your arms around his waist as you smile up at him. He shuffles you a bit closer to the heater, pressing a kiss to your cheek, brushing his knuckle along your jaw.

“Good birthday?” you ask softly and he’s already nodding, can’t believe you’re even asking.

“The best,” he says, “Can’t believe you did all this.”

“You really had no idea?”

“Surprised the shit out of me.” he says. “Y’ always get stressed when we’re running late for dinner so that’s the only reason I thought y’ were being jumpy.”

“Oiii–” you say, slapping him lightly as you laugh. “Not my fault you took ages to get ready. Man’s early for everything but the second you tell him what time to meet at a restaurant, he moves in bloody slo mo.”

“Heeey.” he whines, but there’s no heat behind it, pulling you closer and laughing when you do.

He can hear the party raging on from out here and he still just can’t wrap his mind around it. That he’s 30. That he’s gotten to live the life he has over the last ten years and he has all those people in there to thank. He’s bowled over, the love in that room radiating through his every pore. Not sure he ever knew he could be this loved. 

He can feel your eyes on him and knows you’re letting him gather his thoughts, content to just stand there and patiently wait until he’s ready. Letting him do what he needs to do. Never pushing, or prying. Just knowing him. And loving him. And there’s just something about that, isn’t there?

“‘M just like…” he starts to say, stopping himself when he feels emotion clog his throat. “I cried 10 times already. Bloody Cal is here.”

“Easiest party planning of my life,” you say back softly, tightening your arms around him. “Everyone said yes immediately, they were so excited to celebrate you. Everyone in there really, really loves you.” 

His breath gets caught in his throat at that, blinking back the tears that seem to permanently reside in his eyes tonight. He rests his hand along the side of your face, dragging his thumb along your jaw. Not sure what he did to get nights like this, to get you looking at him like that. He’s so, so lucky.

“I really, really love you.” you say softly and he just - he can’t explain the noise that escapes him as he crashes his lips against yours, tightening his grip on your jaw as he kisses you the way he’s been thinking about all night. You sigh against his lips as he pulls you impossibly closer to him, lips not daring to leave yours for a second, kissing you over and over again. 

He could stand here forever, kissing you like this, but he has to breathe, eventually. He pulls back slowly, kissing along your jaw, cheek, temple before burying his head into your neck. You slide your arms up his back, hugging him around the neck and pulling him close, your hand coming up to rest at the nape of his neck, scratching at the short hairs there. You just stand there for a minute, wrapped up in each other and this may just be his favorite part of the night. There’s something about knowing he’ll always have this. Your arms to fall into. And that’s the greatest birthday present a lad could ask for.

“Thank you so much for all this,” he mumbles into your ear. “Best birthday ever. Proper birthday.”

His heart skips a beat when he hears your delighted laugh, pulling back to get a glimpse of your face, the way your eyes are glowing as they stare back at him.

“I can’t believe you remember that.” you say with a laugh. “You were pissed and burning your mouth on a cheese toastie almost a decade ago when you said that.”

“Mmm, a cheese toastie,” he says, giggling at your eye roll. “Course I remember it. Think it every year. ‘S not a proper birthday unless you’re there. I love you so, so much.”

“Thanks for being born,” you say softly, leaning into his touch. “Greatest thing to ever happen to me. You.”

“Baby - ” he breathes out, but can feel emotion clogging his throat again, trying in vain to blink away the tears your words made spring to his eyes. His thumb brushes over your cheekbone, hand shaking not just from the cold. A lifetime of knowing you and you still make him weak at the knees. 

“Y’ make every day feel like my birthday, y’ know that?” he says softly, feeling like he’s found the right words for the first time tonight. “This party ‘nd this night is incredible. But nothing - nothing - compares to getting to go home with you every night. Greatest gift I ever got.”

He can see the words hit you, the deep breath you take as your eyes rake over his features, smile twitching at your lips as you look at him with such love in your eyes he feels his heart skip a beat. You’re looking at him like you always look at him, really, really seeing him with nothing but utter love in your eyes. God. There aren’t words for that, are there? 

You pull him in, kissing him hard, like you’re trying to pour every ounce of love from your mouth to his and he’s more than happy to drink it up. Drink you up. Drink you in. His favorite taste, his favorite mouth, his favorite person on his favorite day.

His hands squeeze you tighter, living for the way you lean into his touch as it rakes down your back, settling on your bum. He could lose himself in this, in you. But you both seem to become aware of your environment at the same time, deep kisses slowing into gentle pecks before you drag your lips up his jaw, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as you pull him close, hugging him tightly. His arms wrap around your waist as he sinks into your hold. He nuzzles his head into your neck, breathing you in, as he slowly sways the two of you, the party mere background noise to the sounds of your steady breathing, the feel of your hands carding through his short hair. 

It’s a while before he moves, slowly, begrudgingly, pressing a kiss to your neck and tightening his arms around you before mumbling, “I’ve got a crazy idea,” into your skin. 

He lifts his head to look at your face, can see your eyes twinkling, already bracing yourself for what he’s about to say, already in on the joke. It’s a bit he’s been doing every few weeks at this point, ever since you set the date. 

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” you ask, unable to stop the smile growing on your face as you slide your arms down his shoulders, resting your hands on his biceps. 

“Was thinking - since y’ did such a good job planning this party… what do y’ say we throw another one? Like, end of June maybe? Right after your birthday?” he says, pretending to actually mull over those dates, trying to remain deadly serious while your lips twitch into a smile.

“Hmm. I think I could be down for that.” 

“Yeah? Same guest list, bit more of your friends. Some family maybe. Could do it in Italy, near the house.” he says, trying to keep up the bit but the reality of what he’s saying is catching up to him, the familiar tears making an appearance again as he chokes out his next words. “Y’ could wear white.”

“And you could wear a suit.” you say softly, eyes never wavering from his. “Maybe get a new ring.”

“Yeah. You’d like that?” he asks, bringing his hand up to your face when you nod. “You wanna marry me, baby?”

“I really, really do.” you say, the look in your eyes making his heart beat out of his chest.

“Four months,” he says quietly, almost in disbelief of his luck, his life. “You’re gonna be my wife in four months.” 

He can’t tell who moves in first after that, both of you clutching on for dear life as you just about snog the living daylights out of each other. He’s never wanted to ditch a party more in his life. Just wants you, your bedroom, and several hours to even begin to express all he’s feeling right now, all he wants. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you. 

You softly moan into his mouth and he just about loses his mind, thinking about he’ll have a lifetime of getting that sound out of you, just for him. He pulls you impossibly closer as he drags his tongue over yours, keeping your jaw in a tight grip. He could die here, actually. He’d die a happy man, being slowly taken apart by your mouth. 

“Oiii!!!” Johnny’s voice through the open door has the two of you springing apart in shock, though he doesn’t let you get far, burying his head in your neck as he moves his hand off your jaw to flip Johnny off. 

“If you’re both done rubbing against each other out here –”

“Oh grow up, Johnny!” you shout at the same time Harry lets out a “You wish!” that has you smacking him against the head as he laughs.

“The Holmes Chapel lot did promise Hometown Hero over there a birthday shot.” he slurs and Harry begrudgingly pulls away from you to twist towards the doors, pulling your back into his chest as you both face Johnny, his hands resting on your shoulders. “And we’ve been waiting bloody ages –”

“So bloody dramatic,” you huff and Harry laughs, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. 

“We’ll be right in,” he says watching as Johnny rolls his eyes, holding up a hand to indicate “you’ve got one minute”, as he turns back inside and closes the door behind him. 

“Suppose we better go in,” you say, turning to look at him over your shoulder and he all but swells with pride at the look of you, the swollen lips and slightly messy hair. He tilts your chin a bit more towards him and kisses you once more, squeezing your shoulder before taking a step back. You shrug out of his jacket despite his groan, handing it back to him as you bring your hands up to attempt to smooth down your hair.

“Let’s go, old man.” you say and he squawks, sliding the jacket back on before giving you a cheeky smack on your bum, which you try in vain to dodge before reaching for his hand, interlacing your fingers and heading back into the fray. 

The night spirals from there in the best possible way and while he may not remember every conversation he had, every song he danced to, every shot he took, he’ll always remember the way that room made him feel, the love radiating towards him, overwhelming him, inspiring him, fortifying him. He’ll always remember the feeling of your hand in his, the way your body felt against his own, and later, the taste of you on his tongue. Feeling like he could do anything with you by his side, your love making him feel like the greatest version of himself. Like the best is still yet to come, if that's even possible. 

Proper birthday.

---

a/n: the way i literally had 3/4 of this written on february 1st and then could not get myself to finish it. but here we areeeee baby. hope people are still interested. i really like it and couldnt let it go. let me know what u think love u mean it

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[thetravelingtyper]

On The Same Page pt2 (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader Bookshop! AU)

After a recurring nightmare, you and Sam decide to open the shop early...only to have an early arriving customer.

Part 1, part 3

Oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had

The best you ever had is just a memory and those dreams

Weren't as daft as they seem, not as daft as they seemed

My love, when you dream them up

You awoke with a jolt at your alarm, the cursed song striking once more before you could silence your phone. As you sit up the irony is not lost on you. Your dreams of late had been haunted by the caricature of your ex, some cartoon evil laugh chasing with the constant ringing of your phone. The dreams always ended the same, except for this last night:

He was upon you in a moment, clawed hand reaching up your leg. You kick and kick but the words never escape your sewn mouth. The words of your ex-coworker swarm you like angry flies, bold and ugly.

“Disgraceful”

“Stepped over for the CEO’s daughter”

“They were shoddy anyway…”

The voices all fade into your ex’s final words to you: “I never loved you anyway.”

That crushed your heart into ash and scattered it into the indifferent winds. But before he could drag you back, a shape formed in your conscience. Heavy boot steps silence the laughter and a large figure passes in your peripheral vision. In the haze of your dream, he passes the shelves, the bookstore emerging from the darkness to surround your ex and the harpies. 

Your panic slows in the familiar setting and with a kick you send your ex stumbling backward. Turning your face up from the hardwood floor you look towards the figure as the haze clears. It's a man, tall and in black, just browsing but something draws your eye. And as you feel yourself awaken his eyes, hardwood and honey, meet yours. 

You hear shuffling before there is a knock on your door. You call him in and Sam’s head pops in. Green eyes hidden behind black curls meet yours and he pauses upon seeing your slouched shoulders.

“Nightmare again?” He kicks a pair of jeans aside and enters your room.

You stand, make your bed swiftly, and turn to address him in the glory of your Rainbow Fish Pajamas. 

“Yeah, except there was a man this-”

“You got Soap on the brain again?” It comes out immediately and you flush before rushing forward to hit your older brother figure. He was and wasn't wrong. In the following weeks after Soap’s initial visit you found yourself developing a steady friendship with the Scot, who insisted on dropping in every other day. It started with recommendations but quickly turned into shared tea over book conversations. You learned a little about him in the meantime, finding out he worked as a bartender literally down the street from your little shop. The convenience of his closeness and his ease of personality found you a fast and steady friend. 

“-despite your obvious stupidity, no I do not like him!” You huffed, and it was true! Soap was handsome but in truth, you believed that one he was in a relationship and second he was better as a prospective friend. 

Sam grins, dodging your poor attempt to smack him as he spins out of your room,

“He is hot though, poor lad probably gets hit on every shift. Remember we promised to visit on Saturday night! Come on let's open up the store early. I have a good feeling about today!” And with a clap of his hands for you to hurry he closes your door, exiting down the hall towards the kitchen. In a moment you can hear him lighting the stove to make breakfast. 

In the resulting silence, you dress yourself, passing a reflection of yourself in the mirror and choosing to ignore it. Your laptop sits beside your current project: A Smith Corona Corsair, one of the few possessions you had brought with you. The typewriter was the start of your writing career and you kept it well-tuned for work. 

You run a soft hand over its polished ivory keys. The mint blue of the case had a few scratches but was mostly worn from love. You remember as a child hammering on the keys, which graduated into a curiosity for mechanical machines and writing. The stone kept tumbling after you finished your Master’s in English and first stepped into the editing business. In the topsy-turvy world you found yourself in a comfortable position as an editor for a company, a year in deciding to write your books and the rest was history. 

You close the typewriter and quickly change into a manageable but comfy outfit then head out into the hall. Closing your door, you head down the hallway of your small flat, passing photos from back home with Sam. Taking a right you pass into the open concept of the apartment (Sam’s room was straight across the hall from yours). You pad softly on the carpet, stepping onto the rug and into the kitchen where Sam is making breakfast. He flips a pancake as bacon sizzles on the griddle. Running a hand to his shoulder you lean over to see how it was coming, sufficiently satisfied at his improving cooking skills.

“You are learning well”

“I get it from the best” he replies pulling you in for a small hug and a kiss to the side of your head. He releases you at the ding of 8 am on the clock. 

“You want breakfast up here?” You hover over the cabinet of plates, proceeding to pull two out for the food with silverware following. 

“Nah, let's just open shop, I'll eat in the sitting area before cleaning the book return. Can you take the counter today?”

You nod and shift aside so he can plate the food. The Ghibli style meal looks filling and you sigh, you go to take a swipe at the fresh pancakes but Sam dances aside.

“Wait till we’re downstairs.” He follows it up by gathering the silverware and heading towards the stairs. You pout and go to open the door for him and proceed to follow him down the hardwood stairs.

---

You set up post at the counter by 8:11, a plate of food set aside the stack of holds. Some paperbacks gleam with a glossy finish, while other hardbacks are nice with matte coats. Before your eye moves away you catch the shine of antiqued gold. You gently move the top books aside to grab the fabric-bound hardback: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea by Jules Verne.  It looked to be a 50s-60s American release, bound with an inner marbled coat of paper and inlaid with gold foil lettering. The deep aqua of the fabric was barely worn, you wondered if the book had ever been read at all with the great condition it was in. You looked inside the cover for a name but on a a shibu inu shaped sticky note were the initials S.R.

Huh, that's interesting. You ran a hand over the scripting, it wasn't Sam nor your handwriting. You shrug. They must be regular then. You and Sam had a ‘write and set aside’ policy in the store. 

It was an unspoken rule amongst the two of you (and the regulars) that if a book turned up on the counter like this, with a name, it was put ‘on hold’. You set the beautiful book aside with a final glance, then turned your attention to breakfast. 

After finishing your meal you opened the doors to the bookstore at an early 8:34 am. Turning back to the counter you head over and hook your phone up to the music. You flip through Your Love first then frown, the implications of the song a bit much, next Jessie’s Girl. At Rick Springfield’s voice, you sigh, flashes of the girl your ex dumped, and you turn the song again. Then finally the sweet guitar riff and a beat that puts you on your toes kicks up. From the back of the shelves, Sam's head full of hair pokes out.

“It's been a while since we've had a Bowie day!”

You smile back at him as Modern Love kicks up. You sway from around the corner and flip the sign to open, you turn on the neon sign and turn to go stock the sitting area when there’s an immediate ding of the bell as someone enters. You turn around as Sam calls a Welcome in from the back of the store. The first sight that hits you is a literal wall of a man, then there is the smell of worn leather and pine. You step back with a small oh in surprise. 

He wears all black except for a pair of well-fitting jeans and leather boots. As your eyes trace up his tall figure you catch a snug shift with a leather jacket fitted over. Then a black surgical mask and…you freeze. Looking down at you with a slight sense of amusement are eyes the color of darkened honey. 

The man from your dream! But in the flesh and oh…

“I am so sorry!” You wave your hand in front of you a little shy to be caught staring.

The man offers no more than a slight nod with amusement dancing in his eyes. He regards you a moment before mentioning in a low voice, rough but soft:

“No worries dove.”

And with that he steps around you, brushing your arm with the slightest touch of leather, and disappears into the books.

You stand for a moment more before a blush runs up your face and a tingle runs down your spine.

Fuck.

END

I love writing this. I am no longer bored in the library thank you to these lovely people (Taglist!)

@ghostlythots

[medicetwork]

Mercs if they had modern day cellphones!

Heavy:

The screen is too small and his fingers are too big.

The screen also tends to hurt his eyes after a while but he absolutely refuses to turn down the brightness, saying it would make it even harder to see than before

His main favorite functions are video calls with Medic or his family and listening to music.

His life is complete when he discovers E-books

He can’t read them on the screen but he loves being able to clean Sasha while having his favorite book read to him

Medic:

Really doesn’t use it for much else than phone calls and the occasional google search at first

When he discovers mobile games that takes his interest though!

He becomes a candy crush mom.

Oh you have a broken arm? Wellll…You can tough it out, champ. He’s on level 7,229 right now.

He would make all the other men get Life360

Scout:

Total social media zombie(I say as if I am not one)

Surprisingly he’s very popular on apps like Twitter and Tik Tok. People think he’s hilarious!

Unfortunately somewhere along the way he says something less than respectful about something and his account gets banned

Eventually he’s on account number 6 and trying to regrow his following

It never recovers

He finds out about NFT’s

Sniper:

Mainly uses it to watch youtube and play music

His phone is always on silent and Do Not Disturb

He loves those videos where those guys go out into the middle of the woods and just start building a fucking house out of clay and sticks.

He prefers texting to calling, finding it much faster(he just like me fr)

Baffled by just how much porn he has access to now….

But he’s not complaining.

Soldier:

He doesn’t use it because he just keeps breaking his phones.

They’ve been dropped, blown up, set ablaze, dropped in water, eaten by a bread-tumor monster, eaten by Soldier(???) and run over.

Even if they didn’t get destroyed within 3 days he still wouldn’t use it for much else besides setting alarms and sending confusing group texts.

However, with each new phone he has gotten he asks Pyro for stickers and sticker bombs his phone just for fun

Has an American flag wallpaper

Pyro:

Watches a lot of Youtube!

They love art tutorials, cooking tutorials and those videos with the guys that put molten hot metal balls into water and those videos of people crushing things in Hydraulic presses

Their search history is so fucking strange:

“my little pony free episode”

“my little pony movie free”

“how to draw clouds”

“gasoline cheap prices”

They follow Scout’s pages and always send him nice comments and like his videos

Engineer:

Loves listening to music and watching movies on his phone

Eventually learns how to code and make his own apps

This is also how he discovered he could jailbreak his phone and turn it into a universal remote for his sentries

Very slow texter

Uses way more emoji’s than needed

“Hello yall 👋🏻 going to the hardware store today 🔨let me know if yall need anything while im out👋🏻🚶🏼”

His most used app is the settings app

Spy:

Of course all of his phones are burners.

He never uses one for more than one week

Loves pirating movies on it and watching them in bed

He has no contacts. No personal information and keeps his location off at all times

Likes to pretend to be different people and play around with Google and Youtube’s targeted ads and algorithms

One day he’s an 86 year old woman that’s recommended nothing but metal bands and funeral home ads

The next week he’s four years old and getting recommended Mario and Minecraft let’s play videos

He uses twitter

He’s doxxed many people on Twitter

Like Scout he has MANY banned accounts and has also hacked and stolen many accounts

…He hacked one of Scout’s accounts and got it permanently banned

Demoman:

Loves watching Top 10 videos

Also loves having so much ease and access talking to his lads

He video calls his mother often even she just nags him the whole time and keeps accidentally hanging up

Is frequently texting the other team’s Soldier and laughing at what he says back

Uses Discord and Reddit and is in many servers and communities that focus on paranormal activity, urban legends and cryptids

Actually makes his own youtube videos searching for said cryptids

Frequently comments “cringe” under Scout’s posts

[mewtwoandme]

So...a bit of a sad announcement today...I'm hoping this isn't the case, I made an appointment for Wednesday to talk to the vet to get a second opinion, but for those of you who know, I own a bearded dragon, and unfortunately the past few weeks he has been showing the signs of possibly passing away soon...He's 8 years old, gonna be 9 around Christmas if he makes it that far, so for him, he's an old lad. I'm afraid the vet is gonna tell me what I don't want to hear, but honestly, I've been preparing myself for this since he started developing issues last year. Despite that, it's still painful to think about. I've been doing what I can for him in the meantime, doing my best to keep him comfortable, though lately, he has become very unresponsive...Because of this, I have no idea where my mental state is gonna be at for a while, cause, honestly, it's now just a waiting game for the inevitable. This has already been taking a heavy toll on my emotional state, and it's been weighing on me and I've been fluctuating from being okay one day to feeling depressed or crying the next...

As far as the blog/story, I'm not sure if any of my plans are gonna change. As of right now, I don't believe they will. If anything, continuing to draw will provide a necessary distraction for me. As far as Blu arriving in December, I still intend for that to happen. However, I did mention awhile back that he'd probably arrive sometime in January if I was late on it for any reason. So don't be surprised by that happening if my bearded dragon happens to pass away between now and December. Cause I'll likely need some time away to mourn properly. No matter if it's a cat, a dog, a bird, or a reptile. Pets are just as much part of your family as your own flesh and blood relatives, and there's nothing more heartbreaking than knowing you're losing a part of your family. To me, it feels like I'm losing my baby. I know I can't compare losing a reptile to losing a human child, but the similar feelings are still very real.

Of course, I'll update you all whenever it happens, and I'll let you know if I choose to take a break during that time

[manifesting-minerva]

Ghosts & Banshees (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader) - Part 1

Author's Note: I welcome you all to my blog. It has been ages since I wrote fanfiction on here but I thought I should get back in it. I used to have a fanfiction blog back in 2016 where I wrote for multiple fandoms but ended up deleting my blog in 2021. I got obsessed with Call of Duty (I never played it but Ghost and König set a wild fire in me) so I thought I'd give it a shot. Naturally, I'm not an expert when it comes to the games or anything related to the military so mainly it's from research I did. Enjoy this piece (might write additional parts in the future if it does well). - Minerva 🐦‍⬛

Summary: An old friend of John Price joins the 141 team, by his recommendation.

Warnings: Mild language, alcohol ingestion, inaccuracies when it comes to military.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Monday morning. Bright and early, the men of Task Force 141 woke up at the crack of dawn. Their body's internal clock had gotten used to them waking up at 5am but the booze they indulged themselves in the previous night had taken a bit of a roll on the aforementioned "internal clock".

Nonetheless, with their bodies soaked in sleep and taking heavy steps, they made their way down to the base's mess hall, trying to eat away the hangover they manifested the night before. Johnny and Kyle were wiping their foreheads, trying to soothe the aching boom in the heads while walking languidly behind them was Ghost who seemed to be sober than them.

"Liver of steel you got there Johnny." Ghost teased the Scot, his British accent thick in sleep as he watched his friend fighting to keep his breakfast down. Gaz wasn't much help to Johnny either as he also chewed his food slowly. Too weak to reply and with little energy, Johnny shot a cold and annoyed gaze at his friend.

Ghost watched the men in front of him as he washed his breakfast down with a cup of black tea. Nothing soothed his soul like a nice cuppa in the morning (or any time of the day).

Minutes had gone by and they exited the mess hall, laughing about the moments they shared the previous night from Price's arm wrestling to Kyle's poor flirting techniques to Johnny's drunk dancing on tables. Ghost always considered himself as he is. A ghost. Watching from the corner silently, occasionally beating Price's unbeaten streak of arm wrestling to pulling Kyle in a chair after embarrassing himself in front of the ladies to pulling down Johnny off the tables and shoving glasses of water in front of him to sober up, convincing him it's a type of vodka (which Johnny took enthusiastically).

They reached Price's office who jumped off his chair when he watched his men enter, trying to compose himself with a big smile on his face. "Good morning gentlemen." He coughed as he settled with them around the table.

The men adjusted comfortably in their seats, waiting for the meeting to start. "Alright lads, I know last night was tough and thankfully today we don't really have a lot of work to do but we do have a mission coming up in the next few months that would need your undivided attention." He looked over to Johnny who was slowly dosing off in his chair. Ghost, "ever-so-gently", took the initiative to smack his friend in the back of his head, surprising Johnny.

"This should wake you all up." In Price's hand was a manila folder which he planned on the table. "Since this mission is sensitive to say the least, we need a pair of extra hands to help us complete it successfully. Hence why I asked an old friend of mine to assist us in the upcoming mission which she kindly and gladly accepted. She is one of the best snipers and combat fighters I've ever worked with...no offence gents."

"Did he just say 'she'?" Johnny whispered loudly.

"Ah so I do have your attention then Soap!" Price chuckled. "Now you all better keep it in your pants. She is also a medic and I'm sure she'll find a way to castrate you in your sleep if you try something funny. Come in Sergeant Y/N."

And there she was. Standing at 5"4 feet tall in black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that hugged her body nicely. Her soft dark brown hair danced behind her as her brown eyes scanned the room.

"That's not a very nice way to sell me Captain." She chuckled as she made her way over to him. Jaws dropped.

"She has my undivided attention." Johnny whispered to the two men seated next to him. From his cold state, Ghost felt something inside him jolt, like a bullet just fired in his chest. A warm sheet of sweat covered his body, pupils dilated as he watched you and Price hug as he greeted you. No one ever took Price for the "huggy type" person but all formalities flew out the window when he patted her back gently afterwards.

"Welcome Y/N to Task Force 141. We are glad to have you with us. She will also be doing training with the new recruits," Price announced. "Just in case you get bored." He whispered in your ear, chuckling.

Y/N observed the men in front of her when her eyes fell on the only masked man in the room. But before she could introduce herself properly, Johnny bounced from his seat, finding his newly hidden energy.

"I'm Johnny but you can call me Soap." He shook her hand gently and beamed a smile. Kyle was up next.

"I'm Kyle but you can call me "yours"." He said with a small smirk on his face. She swore she felt Price's eyes roll to the back of his head as did the masked man's.

"It's too fuckin' early Gaz." Price scoffed.

"It's Gaz." He said when he received a silent response from the men. A heavy hand landed on Gaz's shoulder and was pulled back. And there he stood at 6"4 feet, dressed in tight fitting black clothes and a balaclava with a painted ghost mask on it with black shadows around his eyes. His fluffy blonde lashes never once fluttered as his eyes were stuck on her, like he's never seen a woman before.

Intrigued by the new member, Ghost approached silently, taking his hand out to introduce himself. Standing tall, towering over her tiny self, he shook her hand.

"Ghost." He said. Short and sweet.

"But you can call him-"

"That's enough Johnny!" Ghost barked.

Once they let go of the handshake, Price stepped in. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave her a tour of the base as well as showing her her sleeping quarters. Her place wasn't big but it was comfortable enough for at least 2 people to live in. A kitchenette, a bathroom, a double bed and a living room with a comfortable couch, TV and a balcony that led to the outside. All she had to do was spice it up with her taste in decorations.

"If you need any help or have questions, we don't bite we're literally next door." Soap offered as he placed her bags in her apartment followed by Gaz. Ghost stood at the frame of the door leaning as he scanned her apartment.

"Thank you gents. I appreciate the warm welcome." She beamed at them.

"If you want, tonight we're heading for a couple of drinks if you want to join us. It's a good opportunity to get to know you a bit more." Gaz said, hoping she'll say yes, to which she did.

***

That evening Task Force 141 gathered around the bar table, downing a pint of Guinness each, laughing along each other's jokes.

"So bonnie," Soap licked the froth from his lips. "What's your code name?"

Y/N raised her eyebrow. "You didn't read my Manila file? I'm impressed at your restraint Soap."

"I'm more of an upfront guy you know. Like to look people in the eyes when I talk to them. He smirked like.

"Do you want to take a guess?" Her lips landed back on her pint of Guinness as she looked around, her eyes landing on Ghost. He is thankful yet again for his balaclava that hid his blush.

"It's Banshee. Price actually suggested it years ago." She chuckled. Price patted himself on the back for this one. "Ay, you're fuckin lethal Y/N." He said sipping on his drink.

"Why do they call you 'Soap' Johnny?" Y/N asked, spinning the subject to the man next to her.

"Let's say I clean up well." He winked at Y/N. "I'm fast, efficient, accurate." While Soap continued praising his agility and the speed he can clean a room and his urban warfare tactics (as Gaz called it "jerking himself off with his own compliments"), Y/N's eyes get again landed on Ghost. His legs splayed open covered in dark jeans and a shirt that was two sizes smaller than his actual size. The way his muscles were ready to rip the sleeves of his shirt, his dark tattoos littering his arms and if her eyes served right, they landed on his crotch where a small bulge could be seen. Immediately averting her eyes when she noticed Ghost's hot gaze on her.

He must hate me. She thought to herself as she diverted her attention back to the rest of the team.

And nothing short could be said about Ghost couldn't take his eyes off her. The way she threw her head back in sweet laughter or the way she punched Soap's arm when he teased her. Or the way her lips gently closed around the rim of the glass and swallowed her beer.

Ghost knew something was about to change.

Ghost knew he was fucked.

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra III

Not much. But something. I have a few more things in mind for these cuties. This one is definitely all over the place but also a semi-requested kind of blurb.

You can read the rest here: Neighbors

~2.2 k words

“How come everyone stares at you?” He asked.

Harry smirked. “Some people think I sound funny,” he winked at his little best friend in the mirror. “Can y’believe that?” He chuckled. Rory, the seven-going-on-seventeen-year-old, rolled his eyes expertly having heard the story of one of the first sentences he spoke to Harry.

“Is it because you’re not really my dad?”

You’re sure you don’t mind? My sister is close enough but will still be later than you would be...

Course not, love :)

Okay...I’ll call the school and let them know...you’re totally sure and not too busy?

Just call the school, baby. Please :)

Harry smirked at the messages and rolled his eyes letting his client know that he would have to move their appointment to another day. Slipping on his trainers, he headed out the door to his car and drove to the school. He had been several times with the lovely girl that had stolen every bit of his heart. This would be the first time he would be getting Rory on his own. There was a big traffic jam—an accident that Harry was very grateful for was not her because the panic set in almost the moment she called—and she would be stuck for a lot longer. Getting Rory on time would be a challenge for her if it weren’t for Harry happily agreeing to get him.

Harry parked and exited the car heading to the playground where the kids were all milling about and where pickup was designated. He could see all the mums in Rory’s class started to whisper about his presence. Even a few of the teachers began questioning who Harry belonged to from a distance. Typically, he stayed in the car to prevent the chatter. But of course, today was different.

“Hi, m’here to pick up Rory. M’girlfriend called t’let everyone know; M’Harry. Harry Styles,” he explained with a sweet smile. The teacher in front of him had to be as old as his mum at least but she looked rattled to see Harry before her. There was something about the startling green eyes, the British accent, and those deadly dimples that could make any woman weak in the knees. You are too handsome, it’s unfair and leaves people speechless. I only pretend I’m not an absolute mess about you. She had explained to Harry before. He thought it was adorable she felt that way. Of course, he thought it was silly and unnecessary but he couldn’t help the change of his own heartbeat when he caught a glimpse of her doing the most mundane of any tasks.

“Hi Harry!” Rory cheered running up to him and throwing himself at his legs. Harry chuckled ruffling his hair.

“Hey, lad. Y’have a nice day?”

“Can I play a few more minutes?” He asked.

“Actually, I haven’t gotten confirmation just yet. I would...prefer it that way...if it’s all the same to you,” she admitted sheepishly. “We’re waiting on your license,” she explained holding her phone out to Harry so he could read the email chain between the staff and his pretty angel.

Harry’s phone was silent and so he missed the several calls from the poor girl who was probably losing her mind in traffic. Fortunately, Rory was pretty easy going. He even giggled at Harry’s misfortune. “Mumma’s gonna be all worried,” he said.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Ror,” he sighed pressing his phone to his ear. “Hi, kitten,” Harry murmured. “M’at the school. I know I gotta send m’license t’you. I had m’phone on silent.”

“They’re making it very difficult. I’m so sorry,” she sounded so remorseful. The sigh in her voice was heavy.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured. “Rory’s right here, he’s gonna play some more while we get this squared away...how’s the traffic?”

“Terrible,” she sighed. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “They just have my sister on file...” she explained. “I should have updated it.”

“S’nothing, m’love,” he promised. “One second,” he pulled his wallet out and retrieved his ID. He snapped a picture of it and sent it to her so she could email it to the school. Such bureaucratic stuff. But Harry was grateful the school took safety so seriously.

While Harry chatted with his mom, Rory was pointing at the tall man that had a funny voice and his friend looked at him curiously. “That’s Harry,” Rory explained.

“You call your dad Harry?” Aiden asked.

Rory shrugged. “Yeah,” he nodded. “He’s really cool. He plays dinosaurs with me and builds really good forts,” he told him knowingly.

Harry waved at the pair of boys while he chatted quietly with the teacher explaining the whole mess of traffic and the predicament of picking him up in the first place. She said she would send a digital copy of the paperwork for them to fill out so Harry could officially be on file.

It’s all set, I think.

“M’told we’re all good t’go,” Harry smirked at the message. Eyes on the road, kitten. See you soon! Xx “Rory!” He called. “S’time t’go. Gotta grab dinner!”

Rory came hustling toward him again, his friends watching in awe as he followed Harry toward the car. Rory buckled himself into his booster seat and settled in as he looked in the rear-view catching Harry’s eyes. “Is Mumma okay?” He frowned. “She always gets me a popsicle after school on Tuesday.”

“She’s just in traffic, lad. She’ll be late. I think I can manage a popsicle,” he smirked.

Rory nodded and looked back toward the playground. “How come everyone stares at you?” He asked.

Harry smirked. “Some people think I sound funny,” he winked at his little best friend in the mirror. “Can y’believe that?” He chuckled. Rory, the seven-going-on-seventeen-year-old, rolled his eyes expertly having heard the story of one of the first sentences he spoke to Harry.

“Is it because you’re not really my dad?”

Harry frowned. Rory asked it so casually and it stabbed Harry right through the heart. He was sad Rory thought about that in any capacity. Harry wished with everything in him that he could just...be his dad. But then Rory wouldn’t be Rory. Harry would hate that. “Maybe... but...s’none of anyone’s business. But I do love you, Rory. More than anyone could love you,” he promised seriously. “You know that right?”

He nodded. “I don’t think you love me more than Mumma loves me, though,” he snickered.

Harry liked the fact that he wasn’t upset about it. The way Harry talked so highly of his mother made Harry’s heart burst with adoration for the pair. They were inseparable and perfect. “Mm...I’ll maybe let that slide. But s’close. I promise.”

*

“Hey, cutie patootie,” she sighed with a tired smile as she walked in the house. Harry gave her a wave from the kitchen and Rory came bolting from the kitchen where he was helping Harry with setting the table and threw himself into her embrace. “How was school?”

“Harry picked me up!” He said excitedly.

“Yeah?” She kissed the top of his head, and she swore was crawling taller up the length of her with every passing minute. Her little baby. She tried not to think about it too much in fear she would simply begin crying and never stop. “Was that a nice surprise?”

Harry smiled as he finished putting dinner on the table. Rory left her to get the take-home folder that he handed off to her every day. While he did, Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. “Hi beautiful,” he hummed pressing his lips to her earlobe making an involuntary shiver run through her body. It seemed ridiculous that someone as perfect as Harry would call her beautiful after she worked all day and then sat in traffic for way too long.

“Hmm,” she hummed into his shirt. This felt like heaven. Being in his arms. Dinner behind him. Rory loved Harry as much as she did. (Maybe even more due to the proportionality of his little big heart.)

“Mumma, can Daddy come to career day?” He asked holding all the papers that were in his folder in his arms haphazardly leaving a trail behind them. Harry thought his heart stopped. She blinked in surprise at his simple, easy use of the name for Harry. She pulled away from his embrace where he remained stock still, completely speechless, and in disbelief.

“S-sure, love bug,” she murmured awkwardly picking up the slew of papers he left behind to show her. Sure enough, the flyer for career day was right in front of the two of them. Harry was trying (and pretty much failing) to keep his composure. Neither of them wanted to make a big deal of him using the parental term. “What happened to your folder?” She asked, trying to give Harry a moment to process the name.

“I get to introduce you and tell them what your job is...what is it again?” Rory asked, excitement laced in his voice as he looked up at Harry as if he hadn’t just completely flipped Harry’s world upside down with a little name.

After a pause, Harry was still staring in awe of the little seven-year-old that had totally boggled his mind and captured his heart in his little hands. She was crouched beside the papers, so she gently bumped her arm into his shin to garner his attention. “Harry, baby,” she murmured gently, knowing he was completely blindsided and utterly confused.

“Y-yeah, lad. M’called a psychologist. I help people when they’re nervous or scared,” he explained without any emotion in his voice.

Rory looked at Harry curiously. “Like when Mumma was scared at the hospital...or at the car wash?”

He nodded mutely. Unable to fully process how monumental this was and still maintain the conversation as if it didn’t happen at all. “Yes, baby,” she answered instead. “Can you get your folder?”

The second Rory returned to find the folder in his backpack folded over and misshapen due to shoving all his papers in without purpose, she was on her feet throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his skin as if her life depended on it.

“I love you, so much. So, so much,” she whispered.

He wrapped his arms around her just as tightly her toes brushing against the floor, and he smiled into her hair. “God, I love you so much,” he mumbled.

*

She was lying beside Rory in his little bed, and they stared up at the fake stars that made his ceiling glow. “Do you know you called Harry ‘Daddy,’ today?” She asked. The man in question was downstairs cleaning up from dinner and tending to the emergency call he got from a client.

“Am I allowed to?” He asked.

“Of course...just...that was kind of a big deal for Harry and I,” she explained. “Like taking your training wheels off,” she used as a reference of importance.

“Whoa,” he whispered.

“Whoa,” she nodded in agreement.

“Harry’s...not leaving...right?”

“No... no, he’s here to stay love bug,” she said firmly.

“So... he’s my dad now, right?”

She felt her throat tighten with so many emotions she could hardly contain it. “Yeah, baby. He is,” she whispered quietly. For so many years she tried to be every person Rory needed. A mom, a dad, a friend, a teacher, a coach, and so many other people rolled into one. Now, she could be one less person. One less role she needed to worry about.

“I like having a mom and dad,” he yawned sleepily.

“Me too, cutie pie,” she sighed, stroking his soft little face and brushing his hair behind his ear.

* Rory was bouncing with excitement of how cool it was that Harry brought Starbursts to Career Day. He introduced Harry—his dad—to his class and he told them all about emotions and how it’s cool to help people who struggle with it. He brought in a set of figurines of the emotions from Inside Out and made it accessible to the little ones.

“Think I made a few people want t’be a psychologist,” he winked at her from across the table while she went through Rory’s bag. Rory was taking a shower playing with his water toys.

“You make me want to be a psychologist,” she smirked going through the take-home folder again. Harry was working on the crossword, and he bit the inside of his lip.

“S’that because m’so hypnotizing in bed?” He winked.

She blushed and it felt like Harry had won the lottery. She ignored his comment, but Harry thought it was adorable when she was flustered. He returned to seven down, when she gasped. “Oh,” she covered her mouth and handed the paper to Harry.

Inside the box on the page showed a little figure person, dressed in black pants, a blue shirt, and a tie. The person held a messenger bag, papers and a computer spilling out of it. There were little figurines from Inside Out beside the person.

When I grow up, I want to be... was written at the top.

In Rory’s messy, seven-year-old script it read: like my dad.

Harry was certain at that moment he loved Rory more than she ever could.

But it was damn close.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @st-ev-ie @lovrave @harrysxcarolina

neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

[blueraineshadows]

Mechanic!Garreth Weasley

Weasley Wednesday just got greasy and dirty

This week's Garreth's Groupies Discord Prompt is: Alternative Universe

Mechanic!Garreth x F!MC 🔥 NSFW 🔞

Long fic under the cut ❤️

With the last box loaded into the back of her little van, MC checked her clipboard one last time before giving a wave to Ben in stores. "I'll catch you in a bit, Ben," she said. "Thanks for helping me load up."

"No worries, MC," he said. "And don't let them give you any crap today, okay?"

MC grinned and waved her hand in dismissal. "Ah thanks, but I'm tougher than I look. I'll be fine."

Climbing into the driver's seat, she checked her delivery round list and entered the first address into her SatNav. Sunglasses on, radio turned up, MC put the van into gear and set off.

It was summer, the sky a gorgeous blue with little puffs of cloud drifting lazily by. MC sang along to the radio, thinking about Ben's concerns, but MC could handle the banter. She had been delivering to the local motor garages for about 6 months now and learned to let the comments from the techs bounce off her skin. Their cheeky remarks about her bending over to pick things up, asking if her uniform came in a lower or tighter fit, were just lads getting through their working day. She wasn't against a bit of flirting, and most of the time, that's all it was.

MC laughed it off or quipped back with a little comment of her own. Most of them were harmless, and the odd creep was easily handled with a firm look and a few choice words. Her Dad hadn't raised a fool. Working in the trade himself, she was well used to being around a working garage, having spent her Saturday mornings helping her Dad as a kid.

Her first drop went without a hitch, and then she was back in the van checking her clipboard for the next drop. A small smile curved her lips. She recognised the address and didn't need the SatNav. Weasley's Motors was a regular client and she definitely didn't mind if he wanted to flirt with her, that was for sure.

Nestled out of town down a country road, Weasley's Motors was a garage that worked out of an old lock up on a farm. Her van made the turn into the driveway, bouncing along the potholes in the gravel track until she pulled up outside the entrance. MC turned off the ignition, and the quiet surroundings were pierced by the sound of a heavy-duty tool from inside the workshop, the distant sound of a radio playing the only other noise.

She climbed out with her clipboard, lifting her sunglasses on top of her head as she peered into the gloom of the workshop. There was no sign of the owner, Garreth, but his work mate, Ryan, was bent over an engine, his overalls pulled down and tied at his waist. He stood and turned to look at her, a slimy grin spreading across his face.

"Here she is," he said. He grabbed a rag and wiped at his filthy hands, wandering towards her. "What you got for us today then, love?"

MC moved to the rear of the van, opening the doors and checking the deliveries in the back. If it was just Ryan, then she wanted to get this over with. He was one of those that bordered on creep territory.

"Service parts and brakes, I think," she said. She spotted the service parts order in a bag and grabbed it, checking the invoice. She patted a cardboard box marked heavy. "Would you mind grabbing the brake discs for me?"

Ryan gave her a slow look up and down as he approached the back of the van, and MC pretended not to notice. He bent to pick up the brake discs, the smooth toned muscle of his arms flexing at the weight of them. "Anything for you, love," he said.

MC flashed a polite smile and carried the bag towards the workshop, Ryan following close behind. She glanced around. "Is Garreth about? I need a signature, and I've got some old invoices that need checking."

Ryan nodded as he put the brake discs down on his tool trolley. "Garreth!" He yelled. Ryan moved towards the back, waving for MC to follow as he disappeared through a door. His voice carried out to her. "That bird with the nice arse is here from AutoParts."

MC rolled her eyes, hanging back in the workshop in case Garreth wasn't actually in there. She did not want to be alone in the back room with Ryan, and she clutched her clipboard a little tighter, fantasising about whacking it around Ryan's head.

Ryan appeared, grin still in place. "He's just coming, love."

MC tensed as he passed her, his eyes roving over her as he went back to work on his car. He was one of the creeps that she would rather avoid, and it was a shame because Garreth was lovely.

MC let some of her tension go as Garreth appeared in the doorway, his wavy red hair tumbling across his forehead, his smile wide as he saw her waiting for him. He had gorgeous green eyes and a smattering of freckles over his face. Today he was wearing dark grey overalls, pulled down and tied at his waist as Ryan's were, revealing a black, sleeveless top that showed off toned arms covered in tattoos.

MC felt her cheeks warming up as she tried not to oogle him. To do so would make her no better than Ryan, but it was hard not to. Garreth was bloody gorgeous and she gave him a shy smile, feeling like a frump in her steel toe caps, jeans, and checked shirt. Over her shirt, she was wearing her work high-vis vest, and her hair was thrown up in a messy bun. It was not her best look, but it was only work after all. Right now, though, she was wishing she had made more of an effort this morning when she crawled out of bed.

"Hey, how's it going?" Garreth said. He was always cheerful, his smile welcoming and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Not bad," MC said. She held up her clipboard. "I've got some paperwork that needs signing and some invoices to double check."

"No problem. Do you want to come through to the office?" Garreth pointed his thumb back through the door, and this time MC nodded, more than willing to follow him.

As she followed Garreth through the doorway, Ryan shouted across the workshop. "Get her number this time!"

Garreth huffed a laugh and shook his head. He gave MC a sheepish look. "Sorry about him, he can be a bit of a knob."

MC laughed. "I noticed."

The office was tiny, the desk a chaotic jumble of paperwork, dirty tea mugs, and random tools. The wall was covered in planners, posters of cars, notices, and a calendar of topless models hung from a rusty nail. Garreth filled the space and MC hovered near the door, clutching her clipboard a little nervously.

Garreth grabbed a box of donuts from the desk and held it out to her. "Would you like one?"

MC eyed the sugar-coated delights, but the black finger marks around the box made her nose wrinkle. "I'm all good, cheers."

Garreth shrugged and dropped the box back down before rubbing his hands together, his grin playful. "Come on, then. Where do I need to sign my life away?"

MC held out her clipboard and pointed to the box where he needed to sign. Garreth grabbed a pen from the pot on his desk and leaned in to sign his name, his hair falling across his forehead, while she held the clipboard for him. He was left-handed, and his arm brushed against her hand as he signed. His skin was warm, the hairs tickled against the backs of her fingers, and she almost shivered. His male scent surrounded her, the clean aroma of his shower gel and his aftershave mingled with the underlying tang of oil and grease.

His eyes lifted to hers, and she stared at him, a nervous smile lifting the corners of her mouth. The soft green of his eyes was just so lovely, framed with thick copper lashes, and they sparkled with a hidden mischievousness and warmth. Being this close to him had her heart pounding and she wondered if he could tell.

"Thanks," she murmured. She mentally shook herself, reminding herself that she was supposed to be working here, and lifted the signing sheet to pull out the invoice file. "Erm, this is for you. Outstanding invoices. My supervisor wanted me to get you to check them and give the office a call."

Garreth took the paper, leaning his hips back against the desk as he quickly checked it. He nodded and grabbed up a small box from the desk, pulling out a handful of business cards. "Before I forget, would you mind putting some of these on your shop counter? I've just had them made up and I thought I would be cheeky and ask."

MC took the cards, her fingers brushing against his as she did so, the contact adding to the gentle swirl of heat building inside of her. She looked at the cards, quickly reading the details.

"I've started doing a call-out service out of hours. The number is on the card," he said. "Another way to earn a few pennies."

She smiled and tucked the cards into her pocket, wondering if this was a subtle way of giving her his number. Ryan certainly kept hinting at him getting hers. "I'll put them on the counter myself," she promised.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," he grinned. His eyes glanced over her, not as obvious as Ryan, but there was a glimmer of interest all the same that stoked her hope. "Been up to much lately?"

"Oh, you know, working, the usual. I tried that new bar in town last weekend," she replied.

He looked up with interest. "I know the one. Wasn't there a band playing?"

She nodded. "Yes, they were really good."

He smiled. "I should check it out sometime."

"You should."

The air hung thickly between them, both of them eyeing the other. MC bit her lip, her mind going blank as she tried to think of something to say. She had noted a while ago that there was no wedding ring on his left hand, but then in his trade, that wasn't unusual. It was too dangerous to wear rings. You could lose a finger if it got caught up at the wrong time. She wondered if he had a wife or girlfriend waiting for him at home. She wouldn't be surprised if he did. It made her hesitate to say much more, the words suggesting that they should go to the bar together dancing on the tip of her tongue.

"Are you going this weekend?" He asked. Was that a glimmer of hope in his eyes?

MC felt her cheeks grow warm again, and she fiddled with the hem of her work vest. Her tummy flipped at the idea of going with him. "I might," she said.

The phone rang on his desk behind him, and they both turned to look at it. He gave her an apologetic smile. "I'd better get this," he said regretfully.

MC nodded. She should really be getting on with her delivery round, the taco in the van would be timing her and she shouldn't really be lingering. "Sure. I'll erm... I'd best get going. See you next time."

"Take care," he said. His smile was soft as he looked at her, reaching out to pick up the phone. It made her far too reluctant to leave his office, but he held the phone to his ear and he was back into work mode. "Weasley's Motors, how can I help?"

MC backed out of the office, a little regretful that their conversation had been interrupted. She sighed and tapped her clipboard against her thigh as she crossed the workshop, her thoughts still on Garreth and his smile.

"Alright, love?" Ryan said. He ducked out from under the bonnet of the car he was working on and her soft, warm feelings over Garreth plummeted into mild disgust. "Did we get your number this time?"

MC looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You want a number?" She tore a sheet out from under the delivery list on her clipboard and shoved it into his hand. She pointed at the headed paper for the company she worked for and smiled sweetly. "Contact details right there. Have a nice day."

Ryan laughed as she turned away, completely unperturbed by her sass. She ignored him. "Maybe next time then, yeah?" He called out.

She strode out of the workshop and out into the sunlight, irritated as she threw the clipboard into the passenger seat of the van, and fired the ignition.

....*....

The late summer sun was sinking below the horizon as MC dropped her friend, Poppy, off at her home. They had been down to the sea front for a walk on the beach and a cheeky ice cream. It had been nice to catch up with her. She had been full of stories about her boyfriend, Sebastian, and MC felt a twinge of envy.

Why couldn't she keep hold of a bloke? Her luck was terrible. She always seemed to end up with the Ryan's of the world and longed for a Sebastian of her own, a bloke who would treat her properly, as well as ruin her in the bedroom. Maybe a bloke like Garreth. The thought made her smile. Bloody hell, she fancied him.

MC took the turn out of Poppy's apartment block car park and turned the radio up a bit, singing along to the song playing as she drove towards home. As she was moving along the dual carriage way, a strange clunking sound came from under the car, and she frowned, turning the radio volume back down again. Her eyes quickly scanned the dash for any warning lights, but there was none. She slowed down, her ears pricked up in case it happened again. It did. A clunk and then the car seemed to dip in speed on its own, the engine power dying.

"No, no, no," she groaned. She gripped the steering wheel, a look of misery on her face as she pulled to the side of the road and rolled to a stop. She leant her head against the steering wheel and sighed. "Shit!"

Unbuckling her seat belt, she pulled the bonnet catch and got out. The road was quiet, the sky a deep blue that was quickly turning into the black of night. She lifted the bonnet and squinted in the dying light, pulling out her phone to turn the torch light on. She shone it over the engine bay but couldn't see anything obvious.

The oil and water were good. She checked it regularly as her Dad had taught her. The only thing she had not done was get her service yet. Money had been tight, and she had been holding off. She bit her lip, knowing her Dad was going to lecture her for not doing it, but that wasn't going to help her now. Perhaps she had blown a filter or something and she rubbed her face with her hand.

Glancing down at her phone, she debated calling her Dad. He was away on holiday, but it wouldn't be the first time he had tried to diagnose a problem over the phone. Then, a flash of inspiration struck her. Her heart pounded as she hurried back around to the car door, climbing in on her knees to fumble around on the back seat for her work vest. Out of the pocket, she pulled the business cards that Garreth had given her earlier. Thank goodness she hadn't put them in the shop yet.

Her fingers trembled as she keyed in the phone number for out of hours, hoping that it wasn't going to put her through to Ryan. The dialling tone sounded and was answered quickly.

"Hello?"

MC took a breath. "Hi, erm...is that Garreth?"

"Yeah," he said slowly. "Who is this?"

"Hi, it's MC. I deliver to you, you know, AutoParts? I was there today."

"MC?...Wow, erm...what can I do for you?"

She cringed. "I've broken down, and I still had your card in my pocket...you said were doing call outs now?"

"Oh, right, so you need my services? Where are you?"

MC told him the road she was on and roughly how far along from the nearest junction she was.

"Are you alone?" He asked. She told him she was. "Hang tight, darling. I'm on my way."

MC felt a flood of warmth at the endearment and bit her lip at the concern in his voice. She gazed around at the isolated surroundings of where she had stopped and appreciated his promise of being on his way.

The road was quiet, the odd vehicle rushing past, the headlights growing brighter and then fading off in to the distance. MC had locked the car and moved into the grass verge to sit and wait. She knew never to sit in the car and wait in case you get slammed from behind by a truck that didn't see you parked up. She had the hazard lights on, but it wasn't worth the risk. Even though the creepy darkness was starting to put her on edge, she stayed put.

Now that the sun was gone, the air had cooled, and MC hugged her arms about herself. She was only wearing a thin vest top, and tiny denim shorts and goosebumps covered her arms. She played about on her phone, scrolling aimlessly as she waited for Garreth, a little flutter of anticipation her chest at the thought of seeing him again.

When a pickup truck slowed to a stop behind her car, MC hesitated, eyeing the driver as he climbed out, relief washing over her when she saw Garreth's unruly mop of red hair. She stood, brushing loose grass from her bare legs. "Sorry to call you out so late, Garreth," she said, approaching him.

He smiled that gorgeous smile. Tonight he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, with a lightweight dark jacket. "Not at all, I was just watching TV. Are you alright?"

She nodded. "I'm alright, but my car not so much."

He came closer and held out a bottle of water and a big share bag of crisps towards her. She eyed them with confusion. "You brought snacks?" She asked, amused.

He shrugged. "I'm always prepared, and I thought you might be hungry."

She giggled. "Do you do this for all your customers?"

"Only the pretty ones." His wink made her tummy flutter, and she took the offered treats with a shy smile, thanking him.

She explained what had happened, and he had a quick look under the bonnet. "You're probably right about it being a filter but I won't know for sure until I get a proper look at it. It's too dark to see out here, but I can tow your car back to the garage and check it out tomorrow if you like."

"That would be great, thank you. I will call a taxi or something to get myself home." She smiled, rubbing her arm with her hand against the chill as she unlocked her phone.

"Don't be daft. I'll give you a lift home," he offered.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Of course," he said. He studied her a moment and then slipped his jacket off and held it out to her. "You're cold. Here, put this on. I'll get the tow rope fixed up and you can go sit in the truck and warm up."

MC blushed. "Oh, you don't have to give me your jacket."

He sighed and moved around her to drop the jacket over her shoulders, smoothing his hands over them as he did so. MC shivered, but not from the cold, her breath hitching at the solid feel of his hands on her. The jacket was warm from his body heat and smelled of him. It was doing torturously wonderful things to her insides. She wondered what else those strong hands could do as he held her.

"No arguments," he said. Still holding her shoulders, he guided her towards the truck and opened the passenger door. He nodded inside. "In you get. I won't be long."

The truck was warmer than being outside, despite the mess and the lingering odour of oil and men, and MC hugged his jacket around her as she watched Garreth fix up the ropes. He was adorably sweet, bringing her snacks and giving her his jacket, but right now she was shamelessly gawping at his arms in the glow of the headlights as he pulled the rope tight.

Once the car was roped up and ready, MC got back out of the truck.

"Have you ever been towed before?" He asked.

She nodded. "My Dad was a tech. I've done this plenty of times."

Garreth's smile was warm. He caught her under her chin with a calloused finger, the touch light, there and then gone. The burn his touch left behind tingled down her neck and spread all over her.

"Full of surprises, aren't you? Jump in your car then, and we'll get going. I will go to the garage first and then I'll take you home. I won't go to fast, we'll take it easy."

They took a careful trip to his garage with no incident, pulling up outside, and then he unhitched her car, pushing it inside the workshop where it would be safe.

"I can't thank you enough for this," she said. Garreth checked the workshop and was pulling the huge doors closed. He grinned at her. "Maybe you can buy me a beer in that new bar to say thank you."

Her heart leapt. "Sure! I mean, yeah, I could do that," she said, blushing. She hesitated. "You've not got a girlfriend or anything have you?"

He paused to look at her, his hands on the other door, and shook his head. "No. What about you? No boyfriend at home waiting for you?"

She shook her head. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then pulled the garage door closed, locking it up securely. He walked towards her slowly and reached out to slip the keys into his jacket pocket, the jacket she was still wearing. She was reluctant to take it off, not ready to lose the warmth and his scent.

His eyes met hers, his gaze glittering in the darkness, the glow of the security light reflecting in the green depths. He reached up and gently brushed her hair back with a finger, the callused tip grazing against her temple.

"How is it possible that a girl as beautiful as you has no man waiting for her at home?" He asked softly.

"I'm just not that lucky," she whispered. His touch was stoking the aching burn between her thighs, his eyes deep pools of temptation that she would happily drown in.

He trailed that finger down her cheek, waking up her goosebumps as he continued along her jaw, his thumb brushing against her lips. She parted them, her breathing picking up the pace, her heart thudding against her ribs and she couldn't tear her gaze away.

He bent down and brushed his lips against hers, a teasing kiss, a gentle taste, before pulling back a little. His eyes burned into hers, and she grabbed the front of his t-shirt, her mouth claiming his for another kiss because one just wasn't enough. He moaned against her lips, his hands sliding up over her waist, gripping at her vest top and pulling it up so he could smooth his palms over her skin.

She gasped at the feel of those calloused hands on her midriff, her mouth opening to welcome the taste of him, his tongue gliding smoothly against hers as he backed her up. Her Converse scraped against the gravel, legs stumbling backwards until she collided with his truck, his kiss deepening with desperate hunger. She shoved a hand into that glorious hair, fingers sliding through soft locks as he reached around to grab her arse, groaning as he moulded it with his hands.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed. He pinned her against the truck, hips grinding, and she whimpered. She could feel how hard he was, and she ached for more, arching her back, greedy for his touch.

MC slid her hands under his t-shirt, sighing at the delicious ripple of firm muscle, the soft hair on his stomach, and achingly smooth skin. She teased his lips with tongue and teeth, drawing soft sounds from his throat, he was very vocal and it spurred her on. His hands moved to her thighs, sliding upwards, fingers delving under the hem of her tiny shorts. They were short enough for him to grab the flesh of her arse and he hummed in approval.

"I've been wanting to get my hands on your arse for bloody weeks," he murmured. He bent to mouth at her neck, his hands groping and moulding her flesh. "So fucking sexy."

MC tilted her head back, a soft groan leaving her mouth as he sucked at her neck, tongue sliding over her hot skin. "Keep groping me like that and I won't be responsible for my actions," she teased.

"Hmm, is that right?" He squeezed her arse even harder with a growl, before sliding his hands up and around, pushing them up under her vest to cup her breasts, his fingers sliding over the lace of her bra. "Oops, more groping. What are you gonna do?"

She chuckled and slid her hand down to cup him through his jeans, palming along his length with slow deliberate strokes. He groaned and rutted against her hand. "Fuck, yes..."

"You like that, huh?" She whispered.

He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes looking down at her hand as she rubbed, his hips rocking. He bit his lower lip, moaning. "Your place or mine?" He asked. "I need to get you somewhere, and fast, before I fuck you against my truck."

Hunger, hot and feverish swept over her, an ache so fierce she was panting with it. Her fingers fumbled at his jeans, tugging at the buttons. "Do it," she begged. "Fuck me."

A shocked sound left his mouth, his eyes wide as he looked at her. She stared back at him, breathing hard, her body begging for him to take her.

"What...are you sure?"

She had his jeans open now, and she kept her eyes on his as she slid a hand inside, her fingers sliding over the hot, silky skin of his hard cock. She felt it twitch under her touch, a low moan coming from him, his eyes hooded and glazed over as she began to stroke him. "I want it," she whispered.

Utterly gorgeous, sexy and adorably cute. Oh, she was sure.

Garreth groaned and kissed her, his mouth devouring her as he made quick work of her shorts, shoving them downwards to expose the pretty lace of her knickers. Impatient fingers tugged that lace aside, sliding eagerly down and delving into her waiting slick. MC moaned, lips parting as Garreth skilfully swept finger tips over her opening, soaking his fingers with an appreciative groan before sliding two deep inside of her.

"All this for me," he said. He pumped his fingers, twisting them slightly. "Fuck, MC, you're perfect."

MC whimpered and rocked her hips, clinging to him as the pad of his thumb sought out her clit and rubbed in torturous, slow circles. "Garreth..."

"Tell me," he whispered. His mouth moved to her ear, nipping and kissing along the shell of it. He moaned into her ear, his fingers curling and rubbing her into a panting, moaning mess. "That's it, fucking moan for me. I want to hear you."

His filthy talk was so hot, adding to the desperate ache. Her thighs trembled and her back arched, her head tilted back and rolled in ecstasy against the window of his truck as he sucked bright blooms of red down her neck. She could feel the building pressure of her climax, each firm, deliberate thrust of his fingers driving her faster and faster towards it. She didn't care that they were outside and someone could come along and catch them at any moment. All that mattered was his smouldering green eyes and the way his fingers were driving her crazy.

"Garreth," she cried. Her nails dug into the flesh of his arm, the muscle beneath her grip flexing as he fucked her with his hand. Her climax hit, and she clenched around his fingers, a cry leaving her lips, splitting the quiet darkness of the night around them.

Garreth whispered words of praise into her ear, his fingers easing gently, stroking her in teasing slow circles as she shuddered with little after shocks, overly sensitive and throbbing. "Such a good girl," he whispered. "I'm gonna fuck you now. Is that what you want?"

"Yes," she whispered, biting her lower lip. "Please..."

Garreth slipped the jacket from her shoulders, opening the truck door and throwing it inside. He slid both hands up her body, pushing up her vest top to expose her bra. He hummed in appreciation, his thumbs hooking back the lace.

"I need to see these," he murmured. He tugged back the lace and bent to lick across her breasts, moaning against her flesh as he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, his tongue rolling over her hardened peak. "Delicious," he whispered.

He kissed up over her collar bone and throat, finding her mouth, and he kissed her deeply. His hands reached around to grab her arse again. He moaned and pulled his mouth away. "I'm gonna turn you around, alright?"

MC nodded. "Okay."

He smiled and kissed her nose, his hands gently turning her, shuffling them along a bit until they were at the open passenger door of the truck. He pushed her forward and bent her in over the seat, her legs trembling as he slid her knickers down over her hips, letting them pool at her ankles with her shorts. He smoothed his hands over her arse and hips, dipping between her legs to tease her with gentle fingers before pressing her thighs open a little more. "Fucking hell," he groaned. "That looks so perfect."

MC felt a blush heat her face as he caressed and teased her from behind, her breasts squished against the seat, her hands gripping the edge as he slid fingers inside of her again. He worked her open, soft moans leaving her lips as she felt the brush of his cock against her thigh.

"Please..." She whimpered. She rocked her hips eagerly. She felt the pressure of his tip as he rubbed it teasingly against her slick heat. She rocked her hips again, and he moaned.

"So greedy for my cock," he whispered. He guided himself inside of her, both of them moaning at the intrusion. He filled her up so perfectly, and as he began to move, MC buried her face into the seat. Her hands grappled for purchase against the leather, bracing against the centre console of the truck as he began to fuck her hard.

A cry left her mouth, his skin slapping against her arse in a punishing rhythm, the truck rocking on its wheels as he braced one arm against the top of the door frame. His other hand gripped her hip, breathless grunts, and moans spilling from his mouth as he pounded relentlessly. The angle was utter bliss, each thrust hitting that sweet spot until she saw white spots in front of her eyes. Her climax came swift, ripping through her with blazing heat, her walls clenching tightly around him.

Garreth swore viciously, grinding against her tight and hard with a growl before pulling out. MC whimpered at the sudden emptiness, gasping as his cock slapped against her arse, sliding upwards, hot and throbbing as his cum splattered up her sweaty back.

All she could hear were their tortured breaths in the silence as they took a moment to recover. And then the truck dipped, and he leaned in over her. She smiled as she felt his lips soft and teasing against her shoulder blade.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

She nodded. "That was so good," she said.

She heard him fumbling about and turned her head. He grinned as he pulled a rag out of the door compartment and wiped the cum from her back. He chuckled. "Apologies, I made a bit of a mess."

"We made a mess," she chuckled.

He helped her out of the truck, and as she adjusted her bra and vest top, he bent to slide her knickers and shorts up her legs. She smiled at him, appreciating the way he was taking care of her. One minute, he was banging her within an inch of her life. The next, he was sweetly tugging up her knickers and pressing soft kisses on her thighs. What more could she ask for?

When he stood up, she grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him in close. She stared up into those pretty green eyes of his. For so long, she had met them with shy smiles. Now she had seen them burn with desire, and for her no less. The smile she gave him now was one of intimacy, appreciating the fucked out daze of his eyes knowing that she had put it there.

She liked that look. She could get used to seeing it all too easily. She cupped his face and pressed a slow kiss to his lips.

"You know we are doing that again, right?"

His eyebrows lifted, his eyes pleased, eager. "We are?"

She smirked and nodded. "Your place or mine?"

"Mine," he said. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully. "Might have to stop at McDonald's drive-through on the way, though. I'm fucking starving."

MC giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Deal. And it's my treat seeing as you came to my rescue this evening."

He kissed her nose, his hands roaming around to cup her backside again. He was definitely an arse man. "Sex and a burger. Best night ever," he grinned.