#shop bathroom mirror cabinets

[sturniqlo]

Tests Found- C.S

summary: Nick and Matt find out Y/n and Chris are having a baby, but not the way Y/n and Chris intended to.

cw: none? just cursing

masterlist | positive masterlist

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five weeks pregnant

It had been about two weeks since Y/n and Chris found out they were expecting a baby. Ever since that day Chris stayed over at Y/n's apartment every other day. Nick and Matt haven't been suspicious at all. Y/n and Chris wanted to keep it private just until Y/n had reached her second trimester to make sure everything was fine with their baby. However, it didn't go as planned.

"Hi, babe. We're here." Chris speaks into the phone as he calls Y/n. He doesn't ring her buzzer anymore because it now annoys her. "Ok, I'll buzz you in." She softly speaks. She gets up off the couch and goes towards the door to buzz the boys in. After a couple of seconds, she lets it go. She unlocks the door, and heads back to her spot on the couch.

Chris, Matt and Nick, all head up to the fifth floor where her apartment is. Matt thought of the idea for all four of them to hangout since Matt and Nick haven't seen Y/n ever since she picked them up from the airport. Which was a little over three weeks ago. Both Nick and Matt became really close to Y/n after her and Chris had been dating for two months. They both thought of her as a sister as soon as Chris told them she was the one seven months into their relationship.

"Hellooo!" Chris says as soon as he opens her front door. "I'm in the living room." He hears her say. He quickly takes his shoes off and speeds off to her before his brothers get to her. "Hi, baby." He leans down and gives her a kiss on the lips. He looks then left to see that his brothers are struggling to take their shoes off. "Hi, babe." She says with a smile. "How our little apple seed, hm?" Ever since last week, Chris has been looking up how big their baby is and what it's compared to. "They're fine, made me throw up my toast with butter, but I feel fine now." He frowns, and sits next to her. "Hopefully your morning sickness goes down-" He gets cut off by Nicks loud voice.

"Y/n! Im here too." Nick sounds offended as she only pays attention to Chris. "Hi, Nick. I was waiting for you, did it really take you two that long to get your shoes off?" Y/n gets up and hugs Nick, then Matt. "I tied them to tight."

"How have you been?" Matt sits down on the smaller couch. "Good, I've just been staying home really. You?" Y/n places her head on Chris' shoulder. "Same, just stayin' home." He says. "So, what are our plans?" Nick asks. "Lunch, shopping, dinner, come back here and watch some movies?" Matt replies looks at the three of them. "Sounds good."

The four of them stay in the living room for half an hour until they're ready to go. "Y/n do you have one of those tooth flossers?" Nick asks, picking at his teeth from the popcorn he had found in her pantry. "Yeah, they're in my bathroom under my sink somewhere." Nick gets up and heads to her room. "Wait for me, I need one too." Matt gets up and follows Nick.

"Have you made an appointment?" Chris asks Y/n once Matt and Nick are out of earshot. "Yeah! We have it a week from now." She says excitedly. "Okay, what time so I can clear my schedule." Y/n pulls her phone out to check her email for all of the details.

In Y/n's bathroom, Nick is searching all over her bathroom cabinets. "How does she have so many cabinets in here?" He closes one door just to open another one. "Umm, Matt? Can you help?" He sees Matt fixing his hair in the mirror. "She clearly said the one under the sink." Matt crouches down and open the one under the sink. While Nick searches the other ones. Matt digs around in the cabinet and comes across what they were looking for. "Found them." He gets up and dangles the bag in front of Nicks face.

"Well, open it up!" Nick yells motioning to the bag. "Here." Matt hands Nick one and grabs one for himself before putting it back. As he puts them back where they were, some stuff falls out of the cabinet on to the floor. "Fuck." He says. As he looks to see what fell Nick gasps when he sees what it is. "Oh my god!" He whisper yells and closes the bathroom door fast. "What?" He looks at Nick and back to what fell on the floor. "Oh my god!" He says. Matt picks them up and places all four onto the counter. "Are they positive?" Nick says with his hand placed over his mouth, the flosser long forgotten.

"I'm not sure, kinda scared to check." Matt says, tossing his flosser in the trash. "I'll check." Nick leans over them and examines them. "Holy shit." He turns to Matt. "Are they?" Nick nods. "Oh my god." Matt whispers. "Do you think they're her tests?" Nick asks. "No duh. They're in her bathroom."

"Should we call her in?" Matt nods. In the living room, Y/n sends Chris all the details about their upcoming appointment until she hears Nicks voice. "I'll be back. I don't think they found them." She walks towards the bathroom and sees the two of them standing in front of the sink. "Did you guys find them?" She asks. "Yes but," Nick closes the door behind her before he finishes talking. "We found something else." Matt grabs the tests by the white part and shoes Y/n as if she's never seen them before. "Oh," Her heart drops. "Are you pregnant?" Nick whispers.

Y/n nods. "Does Chris know?" Matt asks curiously. "Yeah." She looks between them two nervous about their reactions. Matt places the tests carefully on the counter and goes to Y/n to hug her. "Congrats, Kid."

"Make some room for me!" Nick smiles and joins in on their hug. "Now I kinda feel bad." Y/n pulls away a couple of seconds later. "What? Why?" Nick says. "Chris was excited to tell you guys in a fun way." Matt frowns.

The door opens and Chris comes in. "What's going on?" He says. "They found the tests." Y/n says and his mouth turns into an 'O'. "Surprise?" He says. "Chris you're going to be a DAD!" Matt says and goes to hug him and Nick follows behind. "How'd you guys find out?" Matt asks. Looking at the couple with a smile on his face. "I was sick for like weeks, still am though. But, Chris noticed I was late for my period and he went and bought the tests and I took them, and obviously they were positive."

"When did this happen?" Nick adds on. "Right before we left for Boston, the night before act-" Nick gasps. "Not when the baby was conceived you sicko! I mean when did you guys find out?" He swats Chris' arm. "we found out two weeks after you guys had came back. So I'm five weeks right now."

"We were going to tell you guys after the first trimester. But, you guys just had to ask for a damn flosser." Chris was pretty bummed, he wanted to tell them in a special way, and he wanted it captured on video. He had wanted to tell them with a blindfold challenge and him and Y/n would give them baby stuff to try and guess until he would hand them the pregnancy test. "I had popcorn in my teeth! Still do!" Nick yells.

Forty minutes later, they're now at lunch. "I still can't believe Y/n is pregnant." Nick picks at his food. "Me either!" Y/n sips her water. "How big is the baby? Do you know?" Matt says, across from Chris. "The size of a fucking apple seed! That's crazy like, an apple seed is tiny." Chris brings his thumb and pointer finger together to match the size of an apple seed. "That's crazy." Matt and Nick both say, Y/n laughs.

"Have you guys told anyone else?" Nick suddenly asks. Y/n shakes her head and Chris responds. "No, you guys are the first to know. Like we said, we were waiting for the first trimester to end to make sure everything was right with the baby."

"Can we go baby shopping?" Nick says.

[ukbathroomshoponline]

Here at bathroom shop UK, we stock the full range of HiB Illuminated and Non Illuminated Mirrors, Illuminated and Non Illuminated Mirror Cabinets, lights, and more. Choose from Square, round, oval, large mirrors or small, there really is a mirror to suit every bathroom.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Day In The Life

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Natalia offers the fans a snapshot of your life

"Hola," Natalia says, beaming at her phone," I'm going to take you all on a little journey today." She grabs some of her skincare from the bathroom cabinet. "It's my day off today and my girlfriend and I are planning to spend the day together."

She winks at the camera as she finishes her skincare routine.

"It's pretty early for her. Nine in the morning. She likes to sleep in."

There's scuffing at the bathroom door and Natalia rolls her eyes and opens it. She picks up her phone and angles the camera downwards.

"This is the lovely Prins. He came with my girlfriend."

Prins' tail wags at the mention of his name and walks around in circles.

"He speaks Danish," Natalia continues," And Swedish when he's being nice so I've no idea how to tell him how to do anything." She laughs from behind the camera. "Sometimes, I think he only tolerates me because I live with him and his mami."

Prins barks once before scampering further into the apartment.

"So, my skincare is done, I've already showered so all I've got to do is change into my day clothes and-"

The screen cuts for a moment.

"There. This is my fit for today. We're not doing much so I've gone very casual."

The camera cuts again and it's set up on what must be a bedside table. The angle is slightly slanted and the sun streaming in through the curtains is just light enough to see it reflect across your face.

You're still sleeping and the camera picks up Natalia creeping up from behind you, pulling you closer to her by the waist.

It's with great ease that she holds you there. Her hand is splayed over your hip and your previously frowning face relaxes even though you're still fast asleep.

"Amor," Natalia says, her nose nudging at your sensitive neck," Mi vida, it's time to get up."

You fidget a little, trying to escape the touching of your neck. You shift your shoulders too and one of your hands moves to rest on the one that's holding you.

"Talia?" You ask, voice thick with sleep. You refuse to open your eyes. "It's early."

"We have plans, amor," She reminds you," You have to get up now if you still want to take Prins out this morning."

You pry your eyes open after Natalia lays several feather light kisses to your cheeks. You notice the camera instantly and the tiniest of smiles pokes at your lips.

"I look a mess, Talia," You say as you stare at the camera in amusement.

"You look beautiful," Natalia replies," My beautiful, beautiful girlfriend."

You laugh. "I hope you keep that in when you post this. It'll get my moster Frido off my back about being the sappy one in this relationship."

The camera cuts off just as Natalia rolls you over onto your back again.

"Look at my girlfriend," Natalia says from behind the camera," Taking our son out for a walk."

You're sitting on the ground, pulling on your shoes. You smile at the camera.

"Prins," You say, shaking his leash," Kom her (come here)!"

Prins approaches, his tail wagging furiously when he finally notices what you're holding.

"She's leaving me," Natalia whines jokingly," My beautiful girlfriend, leaving me here, all alone."

You roll your eyes. "She's so dramatic!"

"You love me for it."

"Of course I do. I'll see you in a bit."

The camera flips to Natalia's joking pout. "I miss her already."

When the camera cuts in again, it's a shot of your joined hands, swinging. It cuts again and Natalia's behind you, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck as you try to squirm away.

The video captures a few more things. A little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and a table with two coffees. A shot of you recording in the mirror, giving Natalia heart eyes that has the whole internet going feral as she browses through clothes at a store.

There's a romantic meal too. The camera cuts in on you with your hand lying on the table, reaching across it to hold Natalia's. It's dark out now and the restaurant looks like one of those fancy, upscale ones that people spend months on a waiting list to even book a meal at.

You're smiling, not at the camera but just behind it where the viewers know Natalia is. The actual video is suddenly muted and you're saying something that people can't quite lip-read.

The camera shakes like Natalia's been caught off guard and starts laughing.

You smile even wider.

When the camera cuts again and the audio returns, you're both curled up on the sofa together.

Reina is stretched out along the back and Prins lies mostly in Natalia's lap with his head resting in yours. The tv is on low in the background as Talia drops a quick peck on your lips.

"And that was our day," She says to the camera as you rest your head against her shoulder," Did you have fun today, mi vida?"

You nod, closing your eyes as her fingers gently scratch at your scalp.

"She's sleepy," Natalia says," She's a homebody so she doesn't go out much but she did it for me today because she loves me."

"Love you," You murmur, just audible enough for the microphone to pick up.

"Love you too," Talia whispers back before raising her tone again," We're probably going to watch a movie now. There's-"

She cuts off when the front door opens and the viewers are treated to the image of her eyebrows shooting all the way up to her hairline and a look of pure terror.

"Surprise!" The recognisable voice of Pernille is audible.

"Natalia Guijarro!" The equally recognisable voice of Magda snaps," Get your hands off her! There'll be no funny business where I can see it!"

It's like Natalia hasn't even realised the camera is still running because she puffs out her cheeks in annoyance and says back," You don't even live here! How did you get a key?"

You sleepily push off from Talia's shoulders and rub your eyes.

"Momma? Morsa? Did I forget you were coming?"

"It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you knew we were coming," Pernille says. Her hands come into frame as she cups your face and presses a kiss in greeting to your forehead.

"I mean it, Natalia!" Magda continues after giving you your own soft greeting," Hands where I can see them! You will not defile my daughter in my presence."

Natalia splutters. "I-I don't defile her! I...We..."

"Morsa," You groan, your cheeks flushing red," You're embarrassing me."

The last shot captured is off Magda's fingers reaching out to pinch your cheek.

"Good," She says," One of has to."

[mccardswife]

You are enough

heyy! this is my first one shot so it is not the best but feel free to give any tips!

arsenal wfc x teen!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, bruise, angst, sh, a few cuss words, suicidal thoughts, protective awfc and fluff in the end. Please remind me if I have forgotten some! (don't read if you get triggered)

(not proofread so if any mistakes give me a heads up)

word count: 2144

enjoy!

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Being a 16 year old professional football player is not the easiest thing in the world. Yes, you do what you love everyday but it has its up and downs. I signed for arsenal 3 months ago but I had no idea it would be that difficult. I don't feel like I belong here, all the girls on the team are truly amazing don't get me wrong, but it is so hard living up to the standards. Especially when I am me, just me and only me. I don't feel enough

After my alarm went signaling me to get ready for another day of training, the thought of going to training today dreaded me, and it has for weeks. Silence, I lay in my bed in silence just thinking of all the bad things that can happen today. If you are wondering where my parents are, the truth is. I live alone, yes, alone as a 16 year old in England. My parents has never supported me playing footy, not even when I was little. They wanted me to have a career that was meant for "girls" and not "boys", but that sounded bizarre. Football is for everyone, but they don't seem get that into their head. My parents kicked me out when they found out I signed for Arsenal, we lived in London, but since I got kicked out I had to get an apartment for myself. It was pretty hard but my best friend helped me and I am so grateful thankful for her. I have not told the team about me living alone for 6 months, they would go all protective and wanting to know why but I can't tell them, not yet. I don't want to be judged. Saying to the girls that I got kicked out of home, even thinking about it makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

I lay in bed, in pain. Physically and emotionally. Last night, after I was out grocery shopping I took the metro home as always, when a man probably doubled my age walked over to me. I then realized that it was my father, he dragged me into a corner and asked me if I still was into all that "football shit". I got furious and started whisper shout at him, turned out that was not the best idea. He started going about me being a disgrace to the family, not only the family but the world, that no one is ever going to love me for playing football, and then he punched me right in my cheek. I felt thrilling pain in my face, but he grabbed my wrists hard and said in my face "You useless bitch, no one cares about you and never will".

That sentence goes through my mind over and over again. I was almost impossible to fall asleep last night, because of the pain I was in both physically and emotionally. What my father told me, got to my head and I was thinking. Maybe he was right, I am a disgrace, no one will ever love me, maybe if it would be better if I just disappeared.

Well, well. Got to get up for training and stop thinking. Seriously y/n, get your shit together...

I walked downstairs to the bathroom and got dressed and tried to cover the bruise on my cheek that now has gotten all blue, yellow and purple. It was really painful and very difficult but totally worth it when I was done and I literally could not see a damn thing. Then I did the same to the bruises on my wrists and after I tried to cover up the dark bags under my eyes but that was a bit more of a job.

Suddenly I got the urge, the painful urge. I took the hidden blade from the mirror cabinet and drawed lines on my right arm. One, two, three, four.

Then I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought. The training starts in two hours and we have breakfast together in the dining room an hour before. The metro usually took 30 minutes, I packed my bag in a hurry and left.

When I walked in to the facility I heard two voices yelling my name behind me. Lotte and Alessia walked quickly over to me. "You excited for training?" Alessia asked you. "Yes totally" I said in a lie, I think they saw that I lied because it did not look like they believed me at all. "What about you Less and Lotte?" you said to try getting the attention away from you. It seemed that it worked because they said in sync "Yes". Less and Lotte looked at each other and we giggled.

When we walked in to the dining room, everyone was there. I tried to brush off all the looks I got. Why does everyone look so suspicious today...

"Come here Y/n, sit with us", Leah said after I served myself food. Leah sat with Katie, Kim, Lia, Caitlin, Steph, Beth, Viv and Kyra. I walked nervously over to them and sat down in the seat beside Beth. They started talking and I just sat there quietly eating my food being in my thoughts until Viv said "Y/n, you've been quiet, are you good". They looked at me concerned, "Me? Yes of course Im good, just sat thinking about the upcoming training today". I lied straight through my teeth. "Okay, if you're sure. but you can talk to us though", Caitlin said. I just said a quietly thank you, and then we walked to the locker room and got ready for training.

We started doing some light jog then got into some training drills. I was already sweating, it was surprisingly very sunny outside today and I wore a long sleeve training jersey because of my scars. "Aren't you hot in that", said Jen to me. I just simply shrugged her off saying no.

I was so exhausted, my body is so tired and I really want to lay down. When we had water break I just laid down on the grass. Sweating, I rubbed my face because I was so tired.

Beth and Viv walked over worriedly, they have become my unofficial parents after my transfer to Arsenal. They looked shocked when they saw me. "What" I said in a panicked voice. "Why do you have a big black bruise on your cheek?" Beth said, "And on your wrists?" Viv said. "Is something going on at home?" Viv asked with a knowing look. "No, no of course not, why would you assume that".

After training everyone looked worried and concerned, my passes and shots got sloppier and sloppier, I was hurting more and more. When I was about to leave, Kim, Katie, Leah and Jen cornered me. With Beth and Viv looking guilty behind. They brought me into a private room and they started telling me what Beth and Viv told me. Then all of a sudden Kim said "You know, all the team has been worried and concerned for a while, I can't remember how many times the girls have repeatedly come and talked to me". I looked at her ashamed. "Why do you have bruised?" Katie asked, "I just fell" I said, the lie obvious.

I started scratching because my scars got really itchy, I really wanted to just disappear right there and then. Then Leah grabbed my right wrist softly and pulled up my sleeve, the last thing before I broke down was gasps from the girls. I started trying to make up excuses but none of them were having it, "come with us" said Beth, "We will bring you to the medical room and then we want you to tell us everything". I desperately did not want to but I knew it was no chance of me getting out of this.

When we got to the medical room they put me on one of the beds. My scars were infected, that is why they itched so damn much. Jen was cleaning up my bruises while Kim cleaned up my scars. I know the people who worked here could do it but I did not want them right now, it is bad enough that now the whole team knows.

Leah then said in her stern but soft captain voice "Now tell us everything". I tried to tell her that it was nothing. What Katie said broke me "Please babe, we only want to help you. We know it has been hard for you but please". Then I broke down again, full on shaking and crying. Desperately gasping for air.

I started telling them everything, how my parents are and that they has never supported me once for the choices I have made, that I don't feel like I belong here because I am only me... When I spit out the truth about me living alone for 3 months because my parents kicked me out and that they were abusing me for years before, I saw tears in all of the girls faces. It was a heartbreaking sight. I told them how I ran into my father last night and what he did and said to me and I started sobbing again and saying silently to myself "It is true, what he said. I am a reckless disgrace full kid".

"You are enough y/nn, I promise you babe" Viv said. All of the others agree but I could not help believing my fathers words. "Actually me and Beth have been thinking for a while, we have a spare room and big enough place for 3, and you are like our kid. I am being for real, we love you as our own family. All the team does, but we wondered if you wanted to come live with us?" Viv asked me. I was hesitant and I think Beth saw that because she said "We are not taking no for an answer". I felt a smile creep up on my face and as desperate I was trying to hide it all the others saw and started smiling too. I said to Meadema, "thank you moms". I realized what I said "shit fuck, sorry I did not mean to".

"Y/nn it is okay, you have no idea how glad that made us, you are like our kid" Beth and Viv said.

After a while of me telling them about my thoughts, how I have been feeling for the last weeks, they decided to get me into therapy. We have a therapist at the facility so we agreed to be going to her twice a week. "I am grateful for all of you, I really am but I just feel like a bother" I said quietly.

"No babe stop" Jen said, Katie walked over to me, she took her hands on my head and said "You are enough, a hundred times enough". "You are like a younger sister to me, it breaks me to see you like this, not only me but all of us. We and all the team loves you. You are the baby of the team."

"We will always protect you, and we will get your so called parents locked up." Kim said to me. "Not Viv and Beth but the other parents" Jen said in a playful tone.

"That I understand" I said with a smile of my face.

Leah asked me if she could tell the other girls and the Gaffer, she needed to anyway but it was nice she asked me. I said yes then she walked outside.

A few minutes later they all came in. Kyra, being kind of like my annoying twin ran over to me and hanged on for me for dear life in a bear hug. I started explaining to them a bit more, and reassured them that it was not their fault but my manipulative parents.

I also said that I called Viv and Beth mum and that I am moving in with them and Lessi and Laura said at the same time "about damn time". All the team broke out in laughter.

"I am sorry for not telling you but I feel a thousand times better now after telling you, I have been scared and not felt at home here for a while but telling you and knowing that I can count on you girls will help me. The whole team is kind of like my family I never got and I can't ask for more than that. I am so grateful for all of you, and I love you"

"We love you too y/nn", Leah said with the softest most heartwarming smile ever. "You are our family, blood or not you will always be family" Kim said reassuring.

"Always," Katie said

"And you are enough" the team said lovingly.

[answer2jeff]

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

[greycaelum]

Indulgence Collections 🪷: Touch

Satoru has been sporting his hair longer than usual. He's been so busy he never got the time to drop off his barber shop and get his trim.

"What'cha doing pretty?" Satoru hums from the bathroom sink while he shaved his day-old stubbles, keeping his face flawless. He's wearing a cotton short while unbothered going topless displaying his well-defined muscles.

"Nothing much wanna try something after you're done." You held a small bag and plopped down the couch of your bedroom to wait for your beau.

You heard the running water and him rummaging through the cabinets. He finally emerged from the bathroom with a black shirt on that hangs loosely on his body but didn't hide his damn enticing collarbone.

"What did you wanna do?" Satoru climbs onto the bed but you stop him and you open the bag.

"I got you~ this! ta-dah!" You excitedly presented him with a razor you found while strolling around the shopping district.

Satoru took a few human seconds to understand the meaning behind your words.

"Oh?" A wide grin appears on his lips and takes the razor from your hands. "Are you gonna be my personal barber now?"

You shrug and go to the bathroom to spread out some newspaper on the floor and a chair from your dresser for him to sit on.

"You've been complaining about your hair lately, but you don't go to your barber anyway. So you'll have to make do with me."

Satoru leaned on the doorframe and chuckled as you prepared your make-do salon in the bathroom. True, his nape has been itchy with the amount of thick hair brushing his skin when he removes his blindfold. He doesn't know where you got the guts to try this stuff with him moreover he knows you've never done this before. But he didn't stop you when you pulled him to sit on the stool and put a towel around him.

"Woah, woah, don't start with the razor, Baby." Satoru held your wrist and gave you the scissors you got with the razor. "You have to section my hair first. Like this..." He shows you where his undercut starts. "You cut it like, vertically, okay?"

"O-Okay." You nodded and remembered how his barber did it when you went together to get his haircut. "Like this, right? Is it too short?"

Satoru watches your eyes so focused on his hair that it's too cute to look away from the mirror. 

"Cut a little longer... Yeah just like that." Satoru chuckled when you almost cut a thick chunk of his hair and your face went pale. "Awww, you have no reward if I come out bald, Baby."

"Shut up, I'm trying my best here." You huffed and finally finished trimming down his hair. "It looks good?" You look in the mirror and can't help but laugh at how he looks like the teenager he was in 2006 it's just that his jaws are now more pronounced and a screaming masculinity exudes from his large build.

"Mnnn, go get the razor Baby, you do it like this..." Satoru shows you how to shade his side cut and gives you the razor. You look so obedient as he teaches you how to do it that he can't help but pinch your nose making you yelp.

"I should just follow the hairline, right?"

"Kind of, you start here then curve it here." Satoru directs your hands while you mimic his hand gestures before nodding. "Scared?"

You shook your head and held the razor. Slowly you shaved the excess hair from his hairline, the artic locks were soft against your hand as they fell down leaving a clean line on his nape. It feels ticklish as you shave the back of his neck making that undercut you love so much more defined now. There's just something about Satoru's undercut that makes it so irresistible to your touch. A few more runs of the razor and you're finished. Brushing off the hair from his neck you stared at his clean undercut intently.

Satoru looked at the mirror and whistled.

"At this rate, I'm never going to my barber again." Satoru ran his finger through his hair, feeling it a lot lighter as he ruffled it to a mess.

Without warning he swept you off your feet and threw you over his shoulder, trudging our of the bathroom to the bedroom.

"Satoru!"

He throws you on the bed and climbs over you, peppering you with ticklish kisses all over your face while you try to shield yourself from the onslaught. Instinctively your hands wrap around his neck making contact with his fresh undercut, tickling your palm. Satoru groaned in pleasure when you ran your fingers up to his neck and down to his spine.

"That feels so good, Baby." He purred, drowning you in his weight with his face pressed between your chest. "Do it again, pleaseee~" He mumbled and wrapped an arm around your waist. "My head feels so light."

He didn't have to tell you twice as you ran your hand over and over until his breathing gradually slowed down.

"Y'know... 'm glad you cut my hair." Satoru opened one eye and looked up at you.

"Why?" You hummed and kissed the tip of his nose making Satoru purr.

 "I feel safe when it's you holding my head."

Your eyes softened and nodded. You understand how vulnerable he is regarding his neck up to his head.

"Don't worry that pretty little head of yours and sleep. We got the whole day for ourselves."

Satoru smiles and nuzzles his face even deeper into the valley of your chest and sighs in relief as your fingers thread through his hair, lulling him to a peaceful slumber. The sweet gentle way you tug on the roots of his hair and the scrape of your fingernails against his scalp is the kind of friction his body longs to feel all the time.

"Never let me go, Baby, please..." He murmured between his dreams and your touch.

[@lexiene] happiest birthday dearrrr sunshine~🪷 I hope you like this small gift I prepared~✨🫶🏻

General Taglist: @ice-icebaby  @aeanya @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

—Grey,

[carolmunson]

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 

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[russellsppttemplates]

Papa loves you so much, princess (Mick Schumacher)

Mick and Y/N find out their family is growing

Note: english is not my first language. this is another long piece that I hope you enjoy! I have been talking about this since January, so this is ver long overdue!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's period and pregnancy

Getting up from the bed, you were fortunately quick enough to reach the bathroom in time to pour your guts out on the toilet, leaning on the toilet's side to support your torso. You were already up by the time Mick walked inside the bathroom, his sleepy expression with some traces of concern, "I told you I shouldn't have had that last piece of dessert", you pointed your finger at him through the mirror while you splashed your face, "you kept looking at it like you were a dog that was abandoned on the road, and then when I asked if you wanted my piece, I swear I saw happy tears in your eyes", your husband teased you, rubbing your back in a comforting manner, "do you want me to get you anything?", he asked, "just some cuddles in bed should do the trick", you muttered, allowing him to carry you back to the bed for a few more hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep.

.

After leaving work, you stopped by the grocery store since you and Mick had noticed you were running low and running out of a few items at home, "we just had a snack break and the next part of the meeting should be the last one, I'm sorry I'm not helping you", he said over the phone while you browsed the aisles, "it's okay, handsome. You can still help me out here, though. I'm the cleaning section and I already have dish soap and the spray for the wooden cabinets, anything else?", you asked, earning a negative answer from him, "no, that's all I think. Next is the bathroom one, right? We are running low on toilet paper, and I used the last plaster yesterday. You only had one box of tampons in the cabinet so given that you are about to have your period, see if you need more of them", he pointed out, grabbing your attention to the matter. It should have started by now, you checked the date on your watch. And you were never late.

"We also need those tissues you keep on your bedside table, I used some today and I noticed they were the last ones", you could hear the smile on his voice, "alright, bub. I'll see you at home, have a good meeting!", you dialed off, grabbing the things he mentioned before looking at the pharmacy section.

You were never late, so it had to be this, right? Barring any other health situations, all of your symptoms aligned with pregnancy symptoms: you had been nauseous, feeling sick (and maybe it wasn't the stolen dessert's fault), you kept falling asleep whenever you rested on the sofa at home and Corinna had complimented the way one of your summer dresses fitted you, claiming that the neckline looked beautiful on you. And you and Mick had been trying, not with a whole calendar but rather just not using protection and seeing where it led you, and maybe this was it. Grabbing two boxes for the sake of it, you put them in your shopping trolley before heading to the till to pay for everything so you could go home.

When Mick got home, dinner was already on the table while you also fed Angie her own dinner, his kiss on your forehead coming with an apology for having arrived just in time for it, "no need to apologise, myself and miss Angie kept ourselves busy", you petted her soft fur before heading to wash your hands, joining Mick at the table and enjoying the meal.

"Does it taste okay to you?", you asked Mick, the taste of the broccoli seemingly off to you, "yes, tastes like this dish always tastes. It's very good, why do you ask?", he questioned, "I don't know, tastes funny to me", you mumbled, using your fork and knife to push the green vegetable to the edge of your plate, "maybe you got a bad one", he noted. That was another symptom, you thought, remembering when one of your friends couldn't eat her favourite meal while she was pregnant because she claimed it tasted different.

"Actually, I've been having a few symptoms, and they are all compatible with-", you were interrupted by your husband, "pregnancy", he smiled, seeing your brushed and stunned face, "I've noticed them too. You haven't told me you are craving your usual sweets when you're on your period, your boobs look even more amazing but the moment I so much as graze my finger in the skin you hiss because of the pain, you're not one to take naps during the day but the moment your head hits the pillow you're out like a light, and it's not common for you to have a bad stomach", he reasoned, making you blush even harder, "Why didn't you say something though?", you asked softly.

Mick shrugged his shoulders, "I just didn't want to burden you, or maybe I was keeping my hopes up and I didn't want to ruin yours, or point out something about your body like that, I'd never want to do so in a way that could be harmful", he answered apologetically, making your get up and go sit on his lap, "you could've said something, I wouldn't be offended, I think anyway, apparently pregnant women get mood swings so I can't speak for sure", you shrugged your shoulders, "truth is, I got some pregnancy tests at the store today because I also thought the same thing, but I wanted to do them with you", you looked at him, "but I don't know how to deal with this hope, like, I could just have some bug, but it is also true that everything checks out...", you fiddled and played with his fingers, "we take it step by step, if you'd like", your husband began softly, "and if you're not pregnant, we can keep trying", he explained, grabbing your hand once you nodded, heading to the bathroom so you could do the tests.

The plastic sticks were on the counter, Angie lying on the bathroom floor while Mick sat on the edge of the tub wirh you on his lap, "just a little bit more, liebling", he kissed the side of your head, "I'm sorry", you whispered, gaining his questioning look, "if I'm not pregnant, I got both of our hopes up for nothing", you explained, feeling his fingers lift your chin up to look into his eyes, "no need to apoligise, liebling. We just keep trying, it's not like we mind trying", he winked, looking at his watch to see the time was up, "I'm ready when you are", he said soflty.

You got up, picking up the sticks and seeing that both of them had the same information, "it won't be trying for a baby, but I've heard that sex while you're pregnant is a whole another level of sensations", you smiled at Mick, showing him the positive results.

"We're having a baby?", Mick mumbled, still not sure if he had grasped what you said in the right way, "we are, baby Schumacher is going to be here in nine months", you cried out, smiling as Mick cuddled you, his arms circling your before spinning you, "Angie! You're going to be a big sister!", Mick said once he put you down.

.

"I remember reading about these old wives' that help you guess the gender of the baby, and your grandmother did some on me for both of you and they turned out pretty accurate, I think", Corinna said as she sat in the outdoor sofa in front of you.

Since Gina was visiting, you and Mick decided to invite her and Corinna to spend the day together, Angie sitting next to her auntie while you sat next to Mick, "Oh, that would be fun!", Gina said as she straightened her back, picking up her phone so she could look them up on the Internet while Corinna started with the ones she knew, "they say that if you have a pointed belly towards the front, it means you're having a boy, and if you have a rounder bump and wider hips, it means it's a baby girl", she said, seeing Mick quickly ask for you consent before he helped you stand as he lifted your t-shirt, "what do we think? Pointy or not so much?", you did a turn around yourself, "I think it's rounder", Mick said earning a nod from his mother, "me too", Gina said, "but I've always had wider and rounder hips", you tried to reason as Gina wrote girl and a stick next to it to help count.

"The next one was that sweet cravings were sign of a baby girl, and salty cravings were sign of a baby boy", and Mick wiped the smug smile off his face, "I've been eating a lot of savoury stuff", you nudged your husband while his sister wrote down the tie.

Gina opened the lunar calendar on her phone while the four of you looked at all the details they asked for, "it's a girl according to this one!", Mick yelled way too close to your ear, "another point for babygirl then", you said, cuddling back to his side and giggling at everyone's exciting.

You saw and tested a couple more and, without realising it, you tried the last one without noticing it was the last, only for it to make another tie between babyboy and babygirl, "so that's it?", Mick said, not expecting it to turn out like this, "you just have to wait and see, you know, like all the people do because you can know for sure on the ultrasound", Gina teased him.

.

Once you got to the OB/GYN, Mick offered to go get you checked in at the desk while you went to find a comfortable chair to sit in while you waited, "final bet: are they a baby boy or a baby girl?", Mick said once he sat down with you, his hand holding yours to calm down your nervous thoughts. The ultrasounds always made you nervous, always wondering if everything was alright and as it should be, so having Mick there to support you and distract you was appreciated, "I think they're a baby boy, and he looks like his papa", you cradled his cheek on your palm, "I think they're a baby girl, and she has your kindness and empathy. It's just my gut feeling", he smiled, kissing the top of your head while he moved your conjointed hands to rest on your bump, feeling the baby kick, "not my chubby cheeks?", you playfully gasped, "what can I say? I think the Schumacher genes are much too strong", he teased you, looking up to the door when your name was called.

Entering the room and greeting your doctor, she asked you a couple of questions before asking you to lay on the little bed, the gel cold on your bump as she moved the wand around, "okay, everything looks good, strong heartbeat for little one and mother as well", she smiled, "I can see it. Do you still want to know?", she asked one last time, earning a nod from both you and Mick, "you're going to have a baby girl, congratulations!", she announced.

Your hand squeezed Mick's, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head as you both looked at your baby on the screen, "we're having a little girl? Liebling, it's a little girl", he said, his eyes tearing up as he kept looking at the screen. Despite having feelings and guesses about it, neither of you didn't have any preference, feeling happy just with the idea that you were carrying a combination of you and Mick, but you couldn't help but get all goddy as you imagined Mick with a little daughter, knowing she would have him wrapped around her finger from the moment she was born. Even thinking now, she has him wrapped around her finger since you both found out you were pregnant.

"She looks good, there isn't anything that looks concerning. The measurements are all within the norm, everything looks good. Congratulations, mama and papa!", she smiled, "do you want copies to take home?".

While she went to get the slightly exaggerated number of copies of baby Schumacher (Mick wanted everyone that was important in his life to have one), your husband helped you clean the skin on your bump, "are you happy?", you looked at him, not seeing any signs of uneasiness but feeling his a little bit tense, "I am, liebling", he said, "but she's going to be here soon, you know? Little one is growing so fast, I can't believe we're past the half way point", he admitted, "I just don't want to disappoint any of you", he gulped, making you craddle his face with your hands, "My love, I know you and believe me, if how everything has gone until now is any indicator, we are going to have princess treatment", you smiled softly on an attempt to calm him, "thank you for sharing this with me, though. You can always share your worries with me, Mick", you finished, kissing his lips passionately, "I love you, liebling", he kissed you back, "and you little one, papa loves you so much, princess".

[skeltnwrites]

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about this since I’ve been embracing my curls lately so to my curly haired friends enjoy!

Curly Hair!Reader x Eddie Munson Headcanons

(and just general headcanons about his hair)

Eddie is definitely going for the signature rocker hairdo with his long curls, but I don’t think he cares enough to go out of his way to take care of it

aka that frizz is not as intentional as he makes it out to be

That is until he met you, and you started leaving curly hair products in his shower and explaining the meaning of porosity to him over dinner

He’d be so jealous proud when you finally figure out a curl routine that works for you. When you show him the final product he’s hovering over you to inspect it closely, tugging at strands until they pop neatly back into place and questioning you about the lack of frizz

“This looks metal, babe!” You chuckle. “No, really! You look like you could be a backup for Black Sabbath!”

Y’all brush your teeth beside each other one morning while getting ready and his eyes flick between your curls and his and he begs you to help him

You try your products in his hair and he LOVES smelling like you. So much so that you catch him mindlessly bringing a handful of hair under his nose to sniff

If your conditioners and creams don’t work with his hair, you’d drag him to a beauty supply store to pick out some different products. He’d get distracted, shuffling through nail polish and eyeliner brands while you’re reading the ingredients lists

Shower time becomes very sacred in your household, often spending an hour plus in the bathroom washing, combing, and styling each others hair

He likely reverts back to just using your products after a while which are still a hell of a lot better than whatever drugstore three in one Wayne bought him before

I just know this boy sheds like a cat. Your bathroom is covered in hair no matter how much you both pick it up. You best believe Wayne is coming over once a month to unclog the drains

Also you find his hair ties everywhere

He read about the importance of protective sleep wear in a magazine and saw an ad for silk pillowcases on tv, then promptly ran to the mall to buy you matching ones

When your experimenting with new products and you ask for his opinion, he is not very helpful and will tell you it looks great either way, but you can’t fault him for it he just thinks you look pretty all the time 🥺🫶

His hair definitely gives him some level of confidence. You gave him his first haircut in like four years and he was very nonchalant about it, giving you full permission to do whatever. But once the dead-ends started piling around his feet, he started to get antsy, eyeing your every snip in the mirror

Trimming his bangs becomes as routine as grocery shopping. A pair of scissors are kept in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom for easy access

He gets a lot of knots between driving with the windows open and throwing it in the messiest bun after a gig. He asks you to untangle it most times

He’ll gladly trim your hair too (if you trust him lol)

[azzypzazzy]

Meloxicam ⋆ Chapter Two

warnings: fem!reader, future smut

summary: after a rough morning, you end up seeing a familiar customer

word count: ~1.5k

author's note: hii! i'm so thankful for all of the support on my last post, i'm really greatful for it. after the next chapter it'll be all caught up on here, so more's coming! also sorry this one is a bit less interesting, but it's mostly building up for the future. one final thing to clarify, the fic is only gonna be like 4-6 more chapters. enjoy!

previous chapter , next chapter

Beep! 

Beep!

Beep!

.

.

.

You smacked the top of your alarm, taking a moment to sit up. You pushed away your covers, groaning. You’d squint, glaring at the blinds before standing up to close them. You slowly twisted the rod, letting light into the room. You quickly turned away, blinded by the light overpowering the room. 

You walked to the door, turning off the ceiling fan before heading into the bathroom. You turned on the heater before stepping over to your sink. You stood in front of the mirror, taking a moment to stare at yourself. You grabbed your toothbrush, squeezing a crumpled tube of toothpaste you’d gotten far too long ago to still be using. You took a pause, it definitely still had enough for tomorrow. 

You quickly brushed your teeth, spitting into the sink before grabbing the cap off of your mouthwash. You poured the last sip out, realizing you were gonna have to go shopping after work today. You swooshed it around your mouth, spitting out the remains after accidentally swallowing a bit. You coughed, wiping your face on a towel. 

You turned back to your sink, opening the cabinet behind the mirror. You took your face cleanser, placing it on the counter while you looked for your foundation. You grabbed it from the back, realizing how light it was. You tested it, trying to squirt some out, only to be met with droplets and air. You tossed it back, trying to ignore it. You’d just have to go out with a bare face today. 

You checked the time, realizing you still had a bit before you had to leave the house. You grabbed the face cleanser once again, squirting a conservative amount on your palm. You rubbed your hands together, spreading it on your face. You’d turn the faucet on, testing the temperature before leaning over to wash it off. 

You rushed back to the towel, drying your face off. You checked the time again, realizing you could at least put in the effort to do your lashes. Your eyelash curler sat in your makeup bag, at the very bottom, and although it took a moment, you found both it and your mascara. You rushed to put it on, finally heading back to your room. 

You checked your phone, clicking the calendar app to double-check what you were doing today. No plans, other than work, obviously. Today you were scheduled for your least favorite of your two jobs, barista. 

You grabbed a white undershirt from your drawers before bending down to grab some pants. You reached up for a new bra and underwear, throwing each article onto your bed. You moved over to the closet, grabbing your apron. You threw it with the rest, stopping in your tracks. Your nametag. You’d lost your nametag. And not only that, you’d lost your visor too. 

You ran into your kitchen, realizing you also forgot breakfast. You already brushed your teeth and everything, and definitely didn’t have time to eat. Your manager was sure to be on your ass if you even dared to grab a snack on the clock, so that was also not gonna be an option. 

You gave up the second you saw your nametag right next to your visor. You grabbed the nametag, leaving your visor to pick up on your way out. 

You began to take everything off as fast as you could, regretting the order you chose to get ready. You then put your entire uniform back on almost as quickly as everything came off, checking the time again. You had exactly three minutes until you had to leave. 

You ran back to the kitchen, fumbling to grab everything before you put on your shoes as you were putting on your visor. You opened the door, only to realize you completely forgot your purse. You shot up, running to find it. 

You grabbed it from the counter, checking to make sure you had everything as you were out the front door, trying to lock it. 

Keys. 

Phone. 

Wallet. 

License. 

ID. 

Lip balm. 

Airpods. 

Portable charger. 

Advil. 

Thank god everything was just where it should be, because you were out the door, running to the bus stop. You barely made it, running onto the stairs the second you arrived. You checked each seat to find a free one, only to realize there weren’t any remaining. You reached the back, and conceded. You grabbed onto a free handle, thankful nobody else was next to you. 

You checked time, exhaling once you realized you were gonna make it to work on time. You were on the verge of being fired, and god did you need this job. It was the only thing allowing you to pay rent, and you couldn’t afford to lose it. Not until you could get another solid solution. 

You stepped off the bus, wavering in between couples and small crowds. You were on a limit, and needed to focus. You felt something fall out of your purse onto the ground, looking back to realize there was a newly formed hole, which was just big enough for your lip balm to fall through. 

Before you could bend down to grab it someone stepped on it. They just had to step on it, without even giving it a second thought. You wanted to scream, but didn’t, continuing your walk. You just had to make it, then the day would finally start. You only had to work six hours today, and the sooner you were done the better. 

You passed by a new restaurant which just opened in town, hoping the hostess actually gave your application to a manager. But for now, you just had to get to work. Which you almost finished. 

And after what felt like forever, you managed to do it. You came in from the side, waving to a coworker while you punched in. You quickly opened your locker, setting your purse down as you grabbed your phone. You slid it into your pocket, closing it before rushing to the sink. 

You washed your hands, grabbing a pair of gloves as you ran into the front. You checked the shift schedule, noticing you weren’t too familiar with any of your co-workers. You looked at the floor, noticing how slow it was today. 

You anxiously turned to the counter, hoping you wouldn’t get cut today. You knew if you did, it’d be bad news. Thankfully, you hadn’t seen your manager yet, so you were safe for a bit. You checked the register, only to notice a co-worker of yours, Cheyenne on the register. Although you two weren’t too close, she was always nice to you, so you were happy to know she’d be here as well. 

“Oh my god! I didn’t even realize you were gonna be here today. How’s it going?” She asked, turning to you. She was beaming, as if she already drank her post-shift snack. 

You cracked a faint smile, her energy infectious, “I’m alright.. I’m, uh, managing.” 

She laughed, looking over to the door, “Rough morning?” You nodded, eyes shifting to check the sidewalk outside. Everything was pretty empty today, surprisingly. It was a Monday, which was usually one of the busiest days of the week. “Been there,” She continued. 

“Yeah,” You paused, realizing there weren’t gonna be any more customers, “Has it been like this all morning?” 

“Pretty much,” She nodded, “I’ve been, like, so bored,” She sighed as she leaned back on the counter. 

You nodded, taking a moment to think of anything else you could do. “Alright, I’m gonna go and clean out the fridge.” 

She clicked her teeth, frowning, “Wow, I can’t believe you’re abandoning me.” 

“Oh shut up,” You said, smiling, “Call me if you need anything.” 

“Got it!” She shouted to you, going back on her phone. 

Eventually, Cheyenne and you ended up switching, and you stood at the counter. Your mind drifted, thinking back on the previous week. Although not much happened, you still liked to remember it, savoring each moment. 

The door opened, and someone actually walked in. A tall man with sideburns and a baseball cap. He had to be your sixth customer of the day, and you recognized him. Funny enough, this was the second time you saw him. About a week ago, he also showed up at Petsmart. 

As he walked towards the line you stopped, realizing you remembered him. Which was odd, because you could barely remember anyone you went to school with, but there was just something about him. 

Yeah, he was cute, and totally your type, but you met him at work. Maybe it was because you had to get your manager. Maybe it was just embarrassing. Or maybe there was no explanation, and you just remembered, but either way, he was in line, ready to order.

[ivystoryweaver]

Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #8b: You Won't Be Alone

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Event #8b Summary: What do you and Marc do with your newfound gift of touch? I bet you can guess...

Pairing this chapter: Marc Spector x f!reader (alters mentioned)

Word count: 3.9k

Content: nsfw, mdni (more below the cut)

references to death, dying, burial, dead body; romance, the yearning, angstyish, domestic fluff, mentions of food, smut, p in v, cockwarming, not beta'd. reader is not bigger than the system because she can wear their clothes.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

PREVIOUSLY on "Spectre"...

“I’m scared to move,” you explained in a strained whisper. “I’m afraid that maybe I’m dreaming.”

“I’m real,” he assured you, running his hands down the curves of your body, touching you all over reassuringly. “You’re here with me…somehow.”

You sighed dreamily, brushing his cheek with your soft hand.  "Maybe you brought me to life.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc had a few ideas about how the two of you should spend your morning, but as your body came to life fully, it made the natural demands a living body makes. Your throat felt parched with thirst, and you wanted to visit the restroom.

Your mind began to race with all sorts of thoughts, such as: were you really here? Were you human? Where did your body come from? Were you still buried in the cemetery? Were you even buried at all? Had you been cremated? If so, where did your flesh and bones come from? And why were you still wearing the clothes you died in? Surely Marc's old hoodie wasn't what you were buried in.

There were small things to consider too, such as: did you need to brush your teeth? Yes, probably a good idea. But you didn’t have a toothbrush anymore. Should you go shopping? Did you have any clothes? Did they keep your stuff or get rid of it? Your eyes swam with uncertainty as you pushed yourself into a seated position on the edge of the bed.

Marc had already climbed out of bed before you and was peeling Steven's soft, white T-shirt over his head. That view alone distracted you just long enough to bring you back to the present.

"Baby? You okay?" Marc asked, easing back to your bedside, hoping not to startle you. Reaching out, he brushed his knuckles along the curve of your cheek, and peered down into your eyes.

Shaking the previous thoughts out of your head, you managed a smile. "Yeah, I’m okay. Just ready to get up." So you did just that. Your bare feet hit the cold floor, the sensation chilling you all over in an instant, causing you to misstep.

Marc was already there, catching you safely in his waiting arms. He gathered you close and touched his forehead to yours. "I’ve got you," he assured you, helping you to stand upright.

"Thank you," you whispered. "Just a little clumsy, I guess."

Rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, he pressed a sweet kiss to your mouth. "Must be overwhelming." he sympathized. "Take it one step at a time, okay?" You couldn’t resist another kiss before clinging to his arms as he led you to the bathroom.

As if reading your thoughts from earlier, he rummaged around in one of the bathroom cabinets, explaining to you that there should be an extra toothbrush somewhere. You stared, dumbfounded into the mirror, at your reflection. You looked like yourself - not a thing had changed, but somehow you felt as if you were gazing at a stranger.

As Marc handed you the toothbrush, he caught your gaze in the mirror. "Sweetheart, hey. It’s okay. We can slow all this down." He turned toward you, pulling your attention away from his mesmerizing reflection.

"Hey. Look at me," he softly commanded, "Stay with me."

"I’m okay," you assured him, grasping his arms for support. "I promise. You’re just really...beautiful."

Wetting your lips, your eyes flickered to his own before dropping to his bare, muscular chest. Brushing your fingertips over his bicep, you felt him shiver at your touch. "I’m sorry," you whispered. "It just takes me a minute to process every single thing. I feel like I'm running a little slow."

Marc nodded understandingly. "Trust me, there is nothing I want more than to spend the day touching you. But let’s take it easy," he suggested. Sliding his arms around your back, he pulled you into a gentle but secure hug. He pressed you protectively against the heat of his bare chest - the warmth of him comforting you in a way you could not have imagined only yesterday.

“Let’s just be together,” he reiterated, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a wave of chills down to your toes.

From there, everything was an adventure: the tingle of Jake’s cinnamon toothpaste on your tongue, the foaming bubbles in your mouth, the cool, fresh water as you rinsed your mouth before taking a long, refreshing drink.

You and Marc decided to shower, and when it came right down to it, you suddenly felt nervous. Not to be with Marc, or even to be naked, but just at the powerful, overwhelming sensations happening every second of every minute.

Staring deeply into your eyes, Marc brought you back to the present as he reached for the zipper of his old hoodie, which enveloped you so adorably. Dragging the zipper down, he worked it free of your shoulders, finding a well-worn Chicago cubs T-shirt underneath.

"I forgot about this old thing," he quietly gushed, with a tender smile. Brushing his fingertips underneath the hem, you flinched slightly as he caressed your stomach. 

His body was responding in obvious ways and he wanted more.  He wanted all of you. His fingers inched around your back, to the tiny sliver of baby-soft skin where the hem of your Cubs t-shirt rose up above the waistband of your joggers.  He slid one hand possessively underneath, splaying his long fingers over the curve of your lower back.  He remembered that curve quite well from your years together. He remembered every curve.

His dark eyebrows shot up questioningly, asking permission to continue. You nodded, so he worked the soft cotton over your head, tossing it to the floor to join the discarded hoodie.

Wetting his lips, his gaze fell to your chest and the navy blue sports bra covering your breasts. Brushing the strap from your shoulder, his eyes bore into yours.

"You sure?" he whispered.

You nodded again, feeling so loved and cherished at this moment, even though you wanted to question everything, like why the universe gave you this second chance.

Crossing your arms, you helped Marc pull the sports bra over your head and you didn’t miss the way his tongue swiped over his lips hungrily.

"My beautiful girl," he uttered, cupping your cheek and bringing your mouth to his, sampling your lips one at a time before kissing you, deeply, reassuringly. Your hands locked behind his neck as he pulled you against the solid wall of his chest. The feeling of your bare skin touching his again electrified you and made your knees go weak, but he held you securely. Squeezing you so tightly, he lifted you off your feet.  By the time your lips parted, you were practically gulping air as your skin burned with passion.

Marc set you down, pulling at the drawstring of your baggy joggers, before pushing the material over your hips. Kneeling down, he kept working until you were bare. Then he stood on his knees before you, fingertips tracing the curves of your thighs, and just when you sensed the bathroom steaming up from more than just the shower water, you felt his lips against your tummy.

He hugged you, there on his knees, so desperately. "Missed you so much," he murmured into your skin, kissing you reverently before peering up at you, his own eyes glistening with tears.

"Come here," you coaxed, beckoning him to stand so you could help him take off his sleep pants. Marc’s breathing grew shallow as you eased the material over his hips, freeing his throbbing erection. The soft cotton pooled at his feet and he noticed your gaze fixed on his crotch as he stepped free of the joggers.

“Come on,” he sweetly offered, leading you by the hands into the shower's warm spray.

You hissed as the water pelted your skin, causing you to jump back a bit.

"Too hot?" Marc asked, using his body as a shield against the hot spray.

"Maybe a little," you sheepishly confessed.

"I’m sorry baby, I thought you liked it hot. I’ll turn it down." He rushed to get everything perfect for you, which made your heart burst with love for him.

"It’s not that," you assured him as he turned back to pull you close. "Everything is intense right now - every single thing is bright and loud and hot and cold and..extreme."

"All right. It's okay," he assured you, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "Let’s get you washed up."

The next several minutes convinced you that you had definitely passed on to heaven. The soft lather of suds on your skin, the dragging scratch of the loofa, Marc's careful attention as he took gentle care of you. This had to be paradise.

His lips trailed down the side of your neck as he pushed the loofa down the curve of your back. The softness of his lips made you shiver. As his hand neared the swell of your hip, he dropped the sponge and squeezed your soft flesh, nibbling on your shoulder.

"Is this okay?" He asked you between tempting kisses.

"Yes," you breathlessly whispered, sliding your fingers into his drenched curls as he lifted you up. Pulling your thighs around his waist, he pushed you up against the steamy, tiled wall. Licking hotly into your mouth, he gently pushed his way inside you.

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If this was a dream, Marc never wanted to wake up. A delusion? He would gladly accept dementia. If he were dead, he would willingly never again draw breath.

You were here. Alive, somehow. In his arms, skin pressed to skin, your breath on his lips. As his body joined with yours, he shuddered, overcome in every possible way with every imaginable emotion. He felt that familiar clench as he entered you - heard the hiss as he stretched you open over his length. He loved the way your body fit his - with a perfect tightness to generate the most delicious friction for you both.

You gasped his name, your fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Feels so good, baby,” he groaned, mistaking your sounds for satisfaction.

"Wait. Marc, stop," you cried, desperately gasping for air as you pushed against his shoulders.

With an involuntary groan, he pulled out of you, lowering you down so your feet could touch the shower floor, making sure to support you as you got your bearings.

"D-did I hurt you?" He panted, frantically checking you over.

"No. No, it's just...it's too much," you gasped, your chest heaving as you gripped his arms for support. "I can't...I can't breathe. It's too much."

He thought his own chest might collapse as he watched yours heave.

“I’m so sorry. I…what do I do?”

Marc felt as if he should pick you up and carry you out of the humid bathroom, while simultaneously fearing you needed space from him. Turning off the water, he reached for a clean towel, wrapping you up protectively.

Dark eyes scanned you over, desperate for an answer. "Okay...tell me what to do. Is it me? You-you weren’t ready?" If he fucked this up, he would never forgive himself.

You heard the pinch of panic in his voice as your eyes met his. The last thing you wanted was for him to leave you right now.

"No, Marc, it’s not like that. Please hold me," you begged him, sliding your arms around his back and laying your head on his shoulder. "It's not you,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his skin. “I want you more than anything. It's just too much. You feel so good - it was so intense, I thought I was going to pass out."

"Okay. Okay, sweetheart," he soothed, rocking you gently, pressing a fierce kiss to your temple. "Let's get you out of here."

The next several minutes were filled with longing gazes as Marc dressed you in his clothes.

“Sorry I rushed you,” he whispered as you stepped into fresh joggers.

“I promise you didn’t,” you swore, halting his motion to meet his gaze. “Believe me, that’s what I want. It’s almost all I can think about. But like I said, I’m just…trying to catch up.”

He nodded, but you could tell you didn’t change his mind.

The final result of you wearing Marc’s clothes was a touch comedic, but you were clean and felt so cherished.

"There," he declared, satisfied with his handiwork. "Warm enough?"

"Yes," you nodded, feeling so safe in his arms. The two of you wore hooded sweatshirts and joggers, and Marc even found Steven's fluffiest pair of goldfish socks to keep your feet warm.

“You’re sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?” He sweetly questioned, his eyebrows shifting and worried.

“No, I promise. I wanted to. I want to. Believe me, I don’t think there’s anything I want more than to be with you again,” you assured him. “I just…I couldn’t breathe for a second. Too much of a good thing, I think.”

His familiar scowl relaxed slightly, so maybe he was starting to believe you. Right then, your stomach let out the loudest growl, making the two of you chuckle.

"Kitchen?" Marc proposed.

"Kitchen," you agreed.

As you left the bedroom, you asked Marc to grab Jeremiah's fish bowl.

"Don't want to leave the little guy alone in here," you explained. He was only a fish, but you felt apprehensive to be without your little family.

As soon as you departed your bedroom, your heart longed to see your writing loft. But before you could even think to mention it, Marc was already apologizing about the house.

"Things might look different," he softly explained, tucking Jeremiah underneath his arm while holding onto your hand with his other. "We...I wanted to...um..." He swallowed, slowly trudging toward the staircase. "I needed to...Jake and Steven - they helped me put your stuff in the shed. So, the house’ll look different."

Pausing at the top of the staircase, he turned back to you. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you assured him, squeezing your joined hands. "It's important to me that you were living your life. That you were grieving. It sounds healthy."

Chewing your lip for a second, you pulled him by the hand toward your loft. "I want to see it. Please."

"Okay, of course," he agreed, but he tugged you back. "Remember...it looks different.”

You nodded before pushing open the door to maybe your favorite place in the whole world. The birthing suite of all your little friends - the characters that leapt straight from your heart onto the pages of your books.

Glancing at cute Jeremiah, darting around in his fish bowl under your partner's arm, you sighed a long, cleansing sigh.

Your computer was gone. Several of your bookshelves were cleared. Artwork and pictures no longer lined the walls. A bulletin board of letters from your sweet fans was empty.

Dust had settled on every surface, and you could tell the sun had not shone through this window in months. Heavy drapes blocked out the light. The whole thing felt stale.

A smile lit up your face as you pulled the curtains open. Light flooded the room, as a swirl of dust danced and scattered. You stretched out your fingers as if you could feel it, like a child might reach out to touch snowflakes.

Marc thought maybe he'd never seen anything more magical than your face at this moment, despite the miracles and wonders he'd witnessed as the avatar of an ancient god. And just when he thought his heart might explode with love for you, your nose wrinkled up at the intrusion of so much dust, and you sneezed.

"Bless you," he found himself saying as you bounced on your toes, swiping your finger through a trail of dust which had settled on your desktop.

"I hate dust," you practically giggled, your nose scrunching right before you sneezed again. You laughed out in delight. "I can sneeze. I can cry and sneeze and feel everything."

Your dust-disturbed, watery eyes landed on Marc. "Thank you," you gushed. "Thank you for not selling this house. Thank you for being here with me."

Worried that he'd taken so many wrong steps to get to this point, Marc felt a tightness in his chest loosen. "You're welcome. I'm sorry about your stuff. I-I couldn't look at it. It was my fault," he hurriedly explained. "It was me. Steven and Jake couldn't bear to get rid of it."

"It's okay," you assured him. "It's perfect. Just the dust and sunshine to greet me. Anything else would have been overwhelming." Your eyes met his. “It’s like you know just what I need.”

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The two of you finally made it down to the kitchen, but not before you delightedly greeted your other three fish, thrilled to see them all thriving.

Little Jeremiah swam happily in his fish bowl on the kitchen countertop while you and Marc decided to make some breakfast. You were still experiencing sensations as if every one of them was new to you, so it took you several minutes of feeling a cold egg in the palm of your hand, hearing the satisfying crunch as you cracked it open, smelling the bright citrus of orange juice and the slight burn of toast, before you noticed Marc sort of…staring at you.

“Hey,” you softly called, moving into his personal space. “This is crazy, right? We’re just making breakfast - ”

“Like a regular morning,” he supplied. “I can’t believe it. I seriously cannot believe you’re here with me right now.”

“I’m here,” you assured him, tangling your fingers with his. “Just…stay with me. Talk to me. Please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not,” he quickly protested, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m here too. I’m here, sweetheart. And I know we need to talk...to figure this all out. We will."

Nodding, you turned back to breakfast, your heart fluttering as Marc moved in behind you. Working hand over hand with you, he stayed close. He knew you needed it somehow.

The two of you tried to choke down some food, but something between you felt unfinished.

“How are you feeling?” Marc asked, pushing his plate away.

“Like I want to be close to you,” you whispered, reaching for his hand.

“Come here,” he beckoned you to follow him out of the kitchen. Venturing into the living room, he sat down in his favorite chair and pulled you into his lap, just like old times.

“Better?” He questioned, feeling a shiver of desire as you draped your body over his.

“Much,” you replied, snuggling close to him.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, brushing his thumb over your lips.

You answered by pressing your lips to his. You felt clearer now. Steady. Just the way Marc had made you feel when you were nothing but a spectre. He gave you substance, made you real somehow.

After kissing him for a brief eternity, you pushed your hands underneath his hoodie demandingly, needing to feel his skin once again. Marc released his hold on you, one arm at a time, to shrug the thing over his head and all the way off his arms before using both strong hands to boldly push your sweatshirt up your back.  

You paused, pulling back to look lustfully into his eyes as you ran the tip of your tongue over your nearly bruised lips. Crossing your arms, you assisted Marc in sliding the hoodie all the way up your torso and over your head, where it landed in a pile on the floor.  

“You okay?” He panted, forcing his hands still before running them all over you the way he wanted to.

You leaned forward, breathing hotly on his ear.  “You can touch me.”  

Marc was quaking with longing for you.  His arms wound around your back again, pulling you tightly against him.  “Baby,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to yours. “I need you. Anything you can give me, I want.” He kissed you again, deeper this time. 

You stroked his cheek, rubbing his nose with your own. “I want you too, so much, Marc.”  Using both hands to pull his face to yours, your lips met for another kiss. 

A fire ignited in his body and he needed you like he needed air to survive. He pulled you against him as his tongue licked into your mouth. You felt dizzy and deliriously enraptured as his body flexed under yours, his hands seeming to touch everywhere at once.  In a matter of moments, you pulled your remaining clothes away, kissing and touching - desperately caressing every inch of skin.

Marc’s touch felt beyond amazing and you allowed his hands to explore and touch anywhere he desired. Wishing to hold nothing back from him, you would give him everything you could.  

You moaned when your bodies made nearly the most intimate contact possible as he brushed his fingers between your thighs. One hand found a home on your hip, guiding you to move against him, while the other hand set your body ablaze with his unabashed caress. You felt delirious with desire, your fingernails digging into the flesh of his shoulders.

“Please, Marc,” you begged. “I need you.”

He stilled his movements, causing you to whimper in protest, worried he might be too nervous to proceed.  

Suddenly, he shifted his hips and you felt him plunge inside, stretching you in a way you could hardly remember was possible. He held himself still, his forehead pressed to yours as he moaned out your name.

The feeling was so intensely perfect for Marc that he was almost afraid to move, but not for reasons of fearing he would hurt you. He had simply felt so alone and in so much pain for so long, he almost forgot that bliss like this existed. He felt surrounded by you and he never, ever wanted to leave.  

“Baby…oh fuck,” you gasped, seating yourself on him fully - the stretch of him filling you perfectly. Bracing your palms on his muscled chest, you held yourself still, hoping to keep from getting overwhelmed again.

Marc felt as if a million tons of pressure that had been a crushing weight on his chest were being lifted and his body energized with new purpose and reborn love. He experienced the most pure moment of clarity and freedom, knowing this was right.

He gasped up at you, thick fingers gripping your hips as he struggled not to thrust before you were ready.

“Jesus…honey,” he almost growled, his fingertips digging into your flesh. “Look at you. Need you so bad.”

Finally, you started to slowly rock your hips, your breasts bouncing as you held Marc’s gaze. Your back arched as pleasure tingled up and down your spine. A delicious pressure built in your core, already, overwhelming you. Your head swam and you started to get dizzy…but it felt so good that you decided to give into it. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Marc panted, pulling you against his chest to support your weight. Your body seemed to meld with his and you started to wonder where you ended and he began. He was so deep inside you making you feel more alive than anything ever had - not once, ever in your life.

You went limp in his arms, unable to do anything but feel, the sensation of friction, the salt of sweat, his hot breath, the texture of his skin, the rumble of his groans of pleasure, the heavy drag of his thick cock inside you.

“Don’t…stop…” is all you managed to pant before your body seized in a pleasure so consuming, you almost felt as if your soul left your body.

Which was the whole damn problem in the first place.

Only you were here, with him. 

“I’ve got you,” he promised again, and again.

You remained. You were real.

And when he filled your core it felt like molten lava.

You never wanted to move from this spot.

next

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[aflame4goinghome]

Part Of The Band

j.t.k x f.reader

part two

part one

a/n: here's our much-anticipated part two! things are really starting to heat up... but now what? enjoy :)

word count: 5.8k

warnings: swearing, flirting, kissing, strong sexual language, shameless nicknames lol, some fluff- Jake is very sweet, some pining i guess? SMUT, minors DNI: oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, choking, groping, slight dom/sub action, begging, sir kink (of course), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight biting if you squint

You wake up to the loud blaring of your alarm clock in your ear and a pounding headache. You sit up in bed and press the off button on the clock, looking over to see the time: 10:00. It’s not even that early, but your hangover says otherwise. “Fuck. Why did I ever agree to stay out and drink so late…” you say to yourself, shaking your head and holding your hands over your eyes. You stay like that for a few minutes before begrudgingly getting out of bed and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready.

You shut the bathroom door and then look at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t have the energy to take your makeup off the night before, your mascara is smudged and your eyes are puffy. You take a quick shower, wash your face thoroughly, brush your teeth, and then pull your hair back into a low ponytail. You open your bathroom cabinet to pull out a bottle of Tylenol, take two of them, and then head out back into your room to get dressed. You dread the thought of having to get dressed for class today, so you throw on some sweats and a band tee then head out into the living area.

You enter your small kitchen to find Sophie hunched over the dining table, in a very similar state. “Morning, Soph,” you say with a half-smile, to which she looks up at you with utter regret and just groans in response. You can’t help but laugh, “Pleasant as always this morning, huh?”

She rolls her eyes and says, “Y/N, we are never going out on a school night ever again. I’ve never been this hungover in all my life,” she throws her head back and groans again. “It was your idea, remember?” you say, reminding her. “Whatever. Go to class so that I can wallow in self-pity in peace, please,” she says. You chuckle to yourself, grab a granola bar and a Celsius, then pick up your backpack and head out the door for the day.

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You finish your exam just in time then breathe a long sigh of relief. You feel pretty okay about it and hope that all of your studying paid off. You decide that you need more caffeine to get through the rest of the day. You head over to your campus coffee shop and wait in the unfortunately long line, scrolling on your phone while you wait.

You open up Instagram and, against your better judgment, type in Jake’s name. You hit the follow button and scroll on his page for a minute, admiring the layout and aesthetic of it all. It felt very… him. You decide to shoot him a text to see how his morning has been going.

You: morning :)

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Good morning… sleep well?

You: as well as i could, i guess lol. i’ll definitely not be drinking that much during the school week again for a while, that’s for sure

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Ah yes, you had class today. You said you had an exam, right? How did that go?

You: oh, it was alright. i think i passed, i’m just glad to have it over with. now i can just look forward to tonight ;)

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Well, I’m glad that you did well. And I’m even more glad to know that you’re looking forward to seeing me…

You: hmm, are you looking forward to seeing me?

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Oh, I’m looking forward to more than just seeing you, sweetheart. Your beautiful face will be my good luck charm tonight. Who knows, perhaps you could even get rewarded.

You: i’ll hold you to that…

Sir Jacob ⚔️: That’s a promise, baby. I’ve already coordinated your ride to pick you up at 6. Our guys will take you both up to the front when you arrive… though I might like it if you could come back to see me before we go on.

You: i think i’d like that too. i’m sure Sophie can hold our spot on her own for a little while

Sir Jacob ⚔️: Good, that can be arranged… I’ll see you then, beautiful.

You: see you then ;)

You catch yourself smiling at your phone as you end your conversation with Jake and near the front of the line. You can hardly believe that this was actually real and that you were being brought backstage tonight. You grab your coffee and head home to rest a bit before you have to get ready for the show.

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After sitting on the couch with Sophie for a while watching tv, you two decide it’s time to get ready to go. You look through your closet to find something cute to wear and come across your favorite skirt- it’s black, pleated, and a bit short. You decided to pair it with the Greta Van Fleet shirt that you bought at the merch table last night, which you think Jake will particularly like. You step into the bathroom to do your makeup and then loosely curl your hair to give it some volume.

You meet Sophie out in your living room, throw on a pair of black Converse, and then the two of you head downstairs to wait for your ride. It arrived right at 6, just like Jake had promised. A black car pulls up in front of your apartment building and you both get in. You expected an Uber, but it appears that Jake went a step above and hired a car service for you, which feels so insane to you. You’ve never been exposed to this level of fame before.

The car arrives at the Greek and you and Sophie walk up to the venue. There are security personnel waiting there for you, and they take you both up to the barricade. They’d managed to keep a small space in the front open for you, just like Jake had said he would. They help Sophie get situated in the pit and then take you backstage to the dressing rooms.

Security brings you to one of the dressing rooms and opens the door for you, and you’re greeted first by Josh’s face smiling back at you right by the door. He’s wearing his jumpsuit already, adorned with a beautiful silky robe over top of it. “Y/N! Hello! It is so fantastic to see you again, I’m so glad you could make it again tonight. You look absolutely radiant,” he says, taking both of your hands in his and squeezing lightly. You smile at his enthusiasm, “Josh, hi, thank you… I’m happy to be here too.”

Your eyes look beyond Josh and find Jake sitting on a loveseat in the back corner of the room. He’s already dressed as well, and he looks so good that it’s sickening. His hair is still brushed and neat since he hasn’t performed yet, lying wavy over his shoulders. He has a closed-lip smile on his face that’s almost devious-looking.

You make your way over to him and you watch as his eyes travel down to your bare legs, then back up to your face. “Hi,” you say, with a shy smile across your face as you sit down next to him. “Hi,” he replies, snaking his hand around your waist, “You look gorgeous this evening, sweetheart. Absolutely breathtaking.” His other hand raises up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. You blush at the compliment and lean into his touch as he keeps his hand there, holding your cheek.

“I’m so glad that you’re here. You’ll be my muse for the night, I plan to put on quite the show…” he says, looking into your eyes. You smile up at him as he speaks again. “Here, I want you to have something,” he says, taking his hands away from your body. You mourn the loss of his touch momentarily as you watch him remove a bracelet from his right wrist. It’s a white sailor knot bracelet, seemingly old considering the visible wear and tear.

He places it in your hand and says, “I want you to wear this tonight. To help you remember how much I want you here, and for me to see you in the crowd and know that you’re here for me… and only me.” Your jaw drops slightly, in shock at Jake’s romantic gesture. You smile at him and slide the bracelet onto your wrist, “Thank you, Jake. This is so sweet… You know I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.” He leans into you and whispers in your ear, “Oh, I know you will. I’ll make sure of it.” You let out a sharp breath, feeling absolutely overtaken by him, then manage to quickly compose yourself before you melt for him entirely right there on that couch.

“I should get back to my spot… have to make sure that I’m front and center for a certain handsome rockstar…” you say, standing up and straightening out your skirt. Jake stands up with you to walk you out of the room, placing his hand on the small of your back. Once you reach the door, Jake gets close to you and whispers, “See you after the show, gorgeous,” sending shivers down your spine.

Before you can react, security guides you back to your spot in the pit. Sophie looks at you with a cheeky look, but you just brush it off and get ready for the opener’s set. This is going to be a long night…

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The openers have finished their sets and you’re all anxiously awaiting for the band to come out. The same intro plays as last night with the film videos, and then suddenly, you hear a string of beautiful chords coming from the organ as a bright spotlight points down upon Sam. Danny approaches from behind to sit at his set and then… out walks Jake. His stride is confident and relaxed as though he belongs there, which he so obviously does. He waves to the crowd quickly before he turns around to adjust the settings on the amp behind him. He then walks up to the front of the stage and locks eyes with you, blowing a kiss straight to you. You smile at him, blushing, as he strikes a few chords on his guitar to add to the suspense of the start of the song.

They amp it up a bit, Danny begins pounding on the drums, and then Josh walks out, greeting the crowd with a wide smile. The guys lead into the start of the song and Josh begins to dance around and feel the music. He looks over and sees you, reaching out both of his hands and then bringing them to his heart. You’ve only known him for a day, but you absolutely adore Josh. His kind heart radiates the brightest energy you’ve ever seen and it’s impossible to not be happy right alongside him, he just draws you in.

Your eyes travel back to Jake as he settles into the rhythm of the song. You can just tell how much fun he has up there, playing the song with a smile on his face and moving with the music. You can’t help but admire him, it’s so clear that he’s living his dream. It’s quite wholesome, but this wholesome moment doesn’t last long.

As the band heads into the next song, the energy begins to change. Every time he looks over at you, his eyes seem much darker. He’s playing his riffs with ease and going crazy for the crowd, though you wonder if it might be just for you. When it’s time for his solo, he steps closer to the front of the stage. His eyes meet yours as his hands glide up and down the frets with ease and you watch as he slightly lifts his hips into the guitar.

Oh, he’s putting on a show now, you think. This must be what he meant earlier about making sure that you think of only him during the show. It was certainly working- you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. More specifically, you watch his hands as they move on the strings and his face as it contorts while he plays; in pain or pleasure, you couldn’t be sure. Either way, you start to feel extremely aroused, your eyes glued to him.

Jake puts on this same show for the rest of the set, including the encore. He would occasionally turn his attention to the rest of the crowd and go to the other side of the stage to play to them, but he’d always come right back to his spot in front of you, with his eyes burning through you with lust. You start to imagine what Jake has in store for you tonight, and just the thought of it has you feeling anxious with desire.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The band exits the stage and it’s time for you to head backstage to find Jake. “I’m gonna go call my Uber,” Sophie says, turning toward you, “Be careful, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and text me when you’re on your way home, okay?” You smile at her and say, “Soph, there’s not much you wouldn’t do. I’ll see you in the morning.” Security goes to help you out of the pit to take you backstage as you hear Sophie yell back to you, “Have fun! Don’t get pregnant!” You roll your eyes and shake your head, she sure does love to embarrass you.

The security guards take you back to the same room as earlier and knock on the door. You’re greeted by Josh once again, who has already changed into more casual clothing. “Hello, darling!” he says, smiling from ear to ear, pulling you into a hug. You can tell he’s a hugger with how tight his grasp is, as he rubs his hand slightly on your back.

“Jake’s just taking a quick shower to cool down, I was just about to head to the hotel myself. Did you enjoy the show?” he asks. You smiled back at him, “I enjoyed it very much, you were incredible. I expected nothing less, you’re a natural Josh.” His cheeks turn a bit pink at the compliment as he brushes it off, scoffing. “Please, no more, or else my ego is going to get inflated.” You burst into laughter together and then you hear the water in the bathroom turn off.

“I’d better go, my ride is waiting for me. But you two have a good night,” Josh says, smirking slightly. “I hope to see you again soon, Y/N.” He places his hand on your shoulder and rubs it as a goodbye and then heads out the door, closing it behind him. You decide to take a seat on the loveseat in the dressing room, where you had been sitting a few hours earlier, and scroll on your phone for a moment while you wait.

You raise your head as you hear the door open and see Jake walk out of the bathroom. He had gotten half-dressed in the bathroom, wearing the same old tattered jeans from last night. His hair was still wet- long and dripping onto his bare chest. You can’t help but stare as he walks over to you with a smug smile on his face.

“I thought that you might be here waiting for me,” he says, leaning over you and placing his hand on your cheek, “I’m glad I was right.” He brings his mouth down to yours, encompassing it in a ravenous kiss. It’s hurried and desperate; you know that he’s been waiting all night for this. He lays you down on the loveseat as he hovers over you, taking total control. He places his right knee on the couch next to you as he plants the other between your legs to steady himself then holds your waist with his left hand. His right hand has moved from your cheek to rest lightly on the back of your neck, pulling you into him.

The kiss is so deep that you pull back a bit to catch your breath. “Do you know what you’ve been doing to me all night, looking like that?” Jake says, looking down at you with his long, wet hair framing your face. His left hand leaves your waist and travels under your skirt down to your thigh, gripping it tightly. “That skirt has been making me crazy, baby… Seeing how sexy your legs look. You didn’t leave much to the imagination, huh? Did you wear that just for me?” he asks, his eyes dark and filled with lust.

You hardly feel like you can answer him, your body almost numb from desire, your mind filled with thoughts of him and only him. You manage to nod, looking up at him, begging for him to continue. He shakes his head at you and brings his hand back up to cup your face. “No, sweetheart. Use your words. Did you wear that tiny little skirt for me?” You whimper slightly at his dominance and the feeling of his hands on you. “Yes Jake, yes, I wore it for you. I knew that you would like it,” you answer hastily, desperate to feel his mouth on yours once more.

“That’s what I thought. Pretty little thing wanted to look good just for me, hm?” he says, his mouth just inches from yours. You lean up to try and catch his lips when he pulls away from you. “I shouldn’t let it go to waste then, should I?” he says, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you up, then flipping you over to lean over the armrest. “Is this okay?” Jake whispers with his lips on the shell of your ear, keeping his hands planted on your hips. “Yes,” you answer, almost whining. You couldn’t hide your arousal now even if you tried, your body is calling out to him.

He leans back to kneel on the couch behind you and flips your skirt up to reveal more of you to himself. He sucks in a quick breath and groans to himself as his hands explore you, tracing along the shape of your ass and then taking a handful in his right hand. He brings his other hand to slide a finger under your black lace underwear, snapping it against your skin and making you wince in pleasure. He then slides it to the side, revealing your already dripping wet folds. He brings his hand up to run his fingers through them, collecting the pool of wetness that’s sitting between your legs. You whine quietly at his touch, entirely at his mercy.

Jake leans back over you, still running his fingers over your sensitive core, and whispers into your ear in a deep, raspy voice. “Is this what you wanted, baby? Did you want me to take care of this pretty pussy just like I do with my guitar on stage? Is that it?” You whine again, louder this time as he starts to circle your clit lightly. “Yes,” you breathe out. “Yes, what?” he says, putting more pressure right where you need it most, peppering light kisses on your neck. You let out a quiet moan and throw your head back, “Yes, sir, this is what I wanted, please.” He kisses your neck once more, sinking his teeth in a bit, causing you to whine again.

He then leans back and removes his hand from you, placing both of his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks wide, and letting out a harsh groan. “Fuck, sweetheart, you look so delicious. I need to have a taste,” he says. “Please, please,” you mutter out, begging. He stops holding himself back, leaning down and finally attaching his mouth to you. You gasp as his lips encompass your folds, his tongue teasing your entrance repeatedly. You grip the arm of the couch harshly, holding on for dear life as he licks at you relentlessly.

His fingers find your clit and press tight circles into it as his mouth continues to explore your needy pussy. You struggle to hold back your moans as he gets you closer and closer to the edge. He can tell you’re getting close from your noises and detaches his mouth from you. His arm pulls you up against him and he’s now using both his hands on you to get you to your release. His left hand is still pressing into your clit as he inserts his middle finger into you. You lean back against him and moan loudly as his finger takes a relentless place inside of you and he inserts a second finger. “That’s it, baby, are you gonna come for me? You gonna come all over my fingers?” Jake says with his lips against your neck, sucking marks into it as he grinds his hard dick against you. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say, struggling to get any words out at all. He rubs your clit faster and keeps a steady pace of pounding his finger inside of you, making you come undone for him.

Your orgasm is so harsh, hitting you like a massive wave, taking you over. You can’t control the sounds coming out of you as you moan his name and several expletives as you come down from your high. He slows his fingers inside you, but still moves them, helping you through it. It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. You’d expected him to be good considering how skilled he was at guitar. You fantasized a lot about it as you watched his fingers move along the frets, but this was even better than you’d imagined.

Jake removes his hands from you and places a soft kiss on your cheek. You watch as he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, and groaning slightly. Then he pulls your panties back to their place and fixes your skirt. You step off of the couch and turn to face him, kissing his lips softly. You feel him smile against your lips and let out a quiet moan, taking your cheek in his hand. He leans his forehead against yours and asks, “You coming back to my room with me?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you answer, smiling at him. He steps back from you to grab the rest of his clothes and finish getting dressed. You watch him grab a black button-down shirt, very similar to the blue one you saw him in yesterday, then he slips into the same brown Chelsea boots. He looks into the mirror and brushes his fingers through his hair slightly, still wet from his shower and a bit messy after your steamy exchange. He slides on his dark sunglasses, despite it being dark out, then reaches his hand out to you. “Alright, ready to go?” You take his hand and you walk out, hand-in-hand, to the back entrance where your ride is waiting for you.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The car pulls up to their hotel, Jake gets out of the car and then goes to the other side to open your door for you. You blush as he takes your hand, helps you out of the car, and holds your hand in his as he walks you inside. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife as you both enter the elevator and take it up to his floor. He keeps his hand on your lower back as he walks you to his room and opens the door, letting you enter first, following behind you, and closing the door.

You watch him turn the lock and then turn around and walk toward you. He snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you close. You lean up to kiss him and he groans into your mouth, backing you up until the back of your legs hit the bed. He then lays you down on the bed and leans over you, deepening the kiss. His one hand is grasping at your ass while the other moves up to your neck. You reach down to grasp at his bulge, still hard and throbbing since he went down on you back at the venue. He groans into your mouth and thrusts lightly into your hand, needing more. You pull down the zipper and reach into his boxers to take him in your hand, but it’s clear that he’s feeling impatient because he leans back to completely undress.

Jake unbuttons the remaining three buttons on his shirt and tosses it on the floor, then pulls down his jeans and removes his briefs. You take this time to truly admire him, with nothing covering him. You’re mesmerized by his defined v-line and the way his necklace lays on his bare chest, then you finally look down to see his hard dick, starting to feel slightly nervous. It’s larger than you’d expected for his height, and girthier too, so much so that you worry about it fitting. He leans back over you and slowly pulls your skirt and panties down as you lift your shirt over your head to match him. He kisses you ferociously as his hands find your breasts, still covered by your lacy bra. He kneads them in his hands for a moment before reaching behind you unhooking it with one hand and throwing it to the side of the bed.

He detaches his lips from you and leans back for a moment to look at you, completely bare in front of him. “Fuck, baby… you look absolutely delectable…” he says, leaning back in to kiss you and teasing his tongue into your mouth, which you welcome willingly. Your tongues are swirling around each other as he brings one of his hands down to grab your breast and his finger pinches your nipple teasingly. You moan into his mouth and he smirks, bringing his mouth down to suck it into his mouth. He then moves his hand to your wet and needy core, bringing his fingers through your folds before inserting his pointer finger inside. You’re writhing in his touch, whining, and slightly overstimulated by all of the different feelings pulsing through you.

“Jake please, I need you,” you whine, needing more than just his fingers now. “What, sweetheart? Tell me what you want,” he says, looking down from above you with fire in his eyes. “I need to fuck me, please, I need it so bad,” you plead with him, taking his dick in your hand. He groans into your mouth and teases you more, “Yeah? You want me to fuck you, baby?” “Yes, yes sir, please, please,” you beg, unable to wait anymore. He moans again, hearing you call him that making him throb in your hand.

“Honey, I’m gonna fuck you so good that all you’ll be able to say is my name…” he says, taking himself in hand and pumping it a few times, forehead pressed against yours. He lines himself up with you, his other hand gripping the back of your neck, and presses in just the tip. You whine at the feeling before he takes it back out and then slides back in, gripping his hand tight on your hip and he pushes all the way to the hilt. He lets out a deep groan from the feeling of being all the way inside you, his eyes glued to where your bodies meet as he moves his hips to take himself out and then slam back in again.

His lips crash into yours then, licking into your mouth recklessly as he sets a steady pace. Your fingernails are digging into his back as you moan into his mouth at every thrust, in absolute euphoria. His hand moves from the back of your neck to the front, grasping just tight enough that it wouldn’t restrict your airflow. He removes his lips from yours and looks down at you, his hair framing your face and his eyes boring into yours. His necklaces dangle into your face at every thrust, the cold metal smacking your face to keep you in reality. His other hand reaches down to lift one of your legs higher and he’s now fucking into you at a new angle, so much deeper. You let out a loud moan at the feeling and you feel yourself clench around him, which makes him go faster.

“That feel good, baby?” Jake asks you in a deep whisper and moves his hand from your leg to your stomach, pressing down. “Do you feel me right there? You feel me so deep?” You can tell he likes to talk, and you like it too. His words are getting you closer and closer to the edge as you feel his tip brush past your g-spot over and over again. You nod ferociously and spill out a string of yeses, unable to form much of a sentence. His hand on your stomach moves down to your sensitive clit and starts pressing hard circles into it. “I feel you clenching around me baby, I know you’re so close. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” he says, his eyes locked right on yours, watching as your face contorts with pleasure. It’s not long before you’re reaching your second orgasm, this one even harder than the first as Jake pounds into you incessantly.

As you come down, he puts your leg down and leans down to kiss you passionately, moaning into your mouth. You can tell that he’s close too, though he’s held it together well. You place your hand tightly at the back of his neck, gripping some of the hair there and deepening the kiss. A few more deep thrusts and he pulls his mouth away from yours and pulls out of you, pumping himself as he finishes on your stomach. His forehead falls onto yours as he breathes in your presence for a moment before placing a light kiss on your forehead and walking to the bathroom to get a towel to clean you up.

He returns from the bathroom with a wet washcloth, sits down on the edge of the bed, and helps clean you up. The aftercare is honestly quite sweet, which was to be expected. Despite his tough exterior in bed, Jake is a gentleman first and foremost. He finishes wiping you off and you both take a quick shower to clean more thoroughly and cool off. Even the shower is sensual, he washes you off slowly and delicately, and then you both dry off and get back into bed.

Jake turns the lamp off and then lays down and turns to face you. He reaches his hand over and brushes a piece of hair out of your face and caresses your cheek lightly. You take his hand in yours and kiss the top of it, smiling up at him. You still feel a bit unsure that any of this is even real. But nonetheless, you scooch closer to him and lay your head on his chest, close your eyes, and drift off to sleep as he brushes his fingers through your hair.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

Your eyes flutter open and you see the light of the morning peeking through the blinds. You turn over to see Jake still fast asleep, mouth wide open and snoring slightly. You smile to yourself, it all seems quite innocent. You go to grab your phone from the nightstand and check the time: 9:17 a.m. Okay, that’s not too bad. You wanted to be back at your apartment before noon to catch Sophie after her class was over, so the timing seemed good.

You brush some pieces of hair out of Jake’s face and smile down at him, rubbing your thumb on his temple. His eyes open slowly, a little out of it. “Mmm… morning, sweetheart,” he mutters, his voice deep and groggy. “Good morning… I have to go soon, I think…” you reply, which causes him to jolt awake a bit more, sitting up. “Oh…” he says, his face showing signs of disappointment, “Okay, yeah. I can get a car to take you back to your place.” He grabs his phone and sends a text to who you assume is his manager, then he turns back to you.

“Hey,” he says, placing his hand on your cheek. “I’ve had a really great few days with you, Y/N. I won’t forget it, ever. I hope you won’t either…” You look up at him and frown, you hate this goodbye more than anything. “Of course I won’t forget it, Jake. I don’t think I could ever forget you,” you say as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. He keeps his forehead on yours, trying to memorize this moment before it’s gone forever. “Keep my number, okay? If you ever need anything, or if you’re ever in Nashville… you can call me. I’ll answer. I promise,” he tells you, pulling back and rubbing his thumb on your cheek before getting up to get dressed for the day. You nod, staying in the comfortable silence and doing the same.

You both get ready and Jake walks you downstairs to the front of the hotel where the car is waiting for you. He gives you one more kiss goodbye on the cheek and opens the door for you, sending you off. What a whirlwind, you think to yourself as the car takes you back to your apartment.

After answering the much-expected 20 questions from Sophie about your adventurous night with a famous rockstar, you retire to your bedroom. You get changed into something more comfortable and then look down at your wrist, realizing that you’re still wearing his bracelet. You sincerely doubt that you’ll ever be able to give it back to him, so it can be a sweet keepsake. You take it off and place it on your vanity with the rest of your jewelry, and then go to sit in your bed.

You think back to the events of last night and part of you truly doesn’t believe it actually happened, especially to you. Well, you only live once, you suppose. It isn’t like anything like this would ever happen to you again in your lifetime. You’re likely never going to see him again and one day this is all going to be a distant memory. Right?

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

i hope you all enjoyed the second chapter of POTB!! comment or message me if you want to be added to the taglist!

the next chapter will involve a small time jump to the present day, so buckle up my loves!! see you soon! <3

part three

taglist:

@writingcold @josh-iamyour-mama @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @sinarainbows @gvfmelbourne @jaketsguitar @swiftiepanda21 @itsafullmoon @thetroublegetssoloud71 @vanfleeter @gretasfallingsky @dem0litiondan @dixonbrainrot

[dearestaeneas]

Pappappappappap.

Turn left. Up three slats. Forward for a bit. Hang a right.

Ancient drywall dust speckled the ground at his paws, the wood old and dry and at risk for splintering. It was an absolute playground.

The rat did not know this, but the house had been abandoned for years. On the other side of the wall sat dusty furniture and heavily graffitied wallpaper, empty glass bottles, and general litter. The town had debated knocking it over, putting up a parking lot, but decided against it.

There wasn’t even a shopping mall. What would we need the lot for?

So there the house remained. Abandoned and unloved by humans. The teens who hid in the leaf-filled kitchen to smoke after school did not love the house, with its 3 floors and creaky stairs. The college students who appeared each Thanksgiving night to drink and reminisce, pretending they were anything other than babies in the world did not love the house’s study, home to an elderly desk that no one cared enough to look in. The rats and birds and insects and squirrels did not see the need for the money, or the books, or the gold watch that still, despite it all, ticked.

Pappappappappap.

His little feet pounded ever forward, his little round body squeezing effortlessly upwards between wooden planks.

The little rat, with his round body and busy feet, loved the house. He did not care about the once-expensive looking rugs, or the elegant, but stained, crown molding, and he did not care about the ornate door knobs. The little rat, in no particular order, loved these things about the house:

He loved the still-somewhat-silver silverware that sat in a kitchen drawer for the noise it made when he scurried over them (knives make for a particularly pleasant noise, with their flat edges that slide off of one another).

He loved the bookshelves that lined the walls of most of the rooms, because they made for excellent perches to sit on to survey the floor (not to mention that if one of the books could be knocked over, a page could be taken for a nest with incredible ease).

He loved the plushies left behind in one of the smaller upstairs rooms. There was one that looked like him! Although this was not his favorite (that honor belonged to a little brown bear, who lay on his back, leaving his stomach open for the most wonderful of naps), it pleased him. A mirror had been knocked off the bathroom cabinet and shattered, its shards sparkling on the floor. The little rat tended to avoid that room, knowing simply that the little silver points were bad news, and not needing more information than that. However, he had not come to this conclusion without first exploring the room, for the initial shattering had mimicked the pleasant sounds of the silverware, but times a thousand. He was intrigued by the other little round-bodied rat who looked back at him from one of the shards. He hoped he was not lonely in there.

But the little rat did not love the house for what it contained. Its contents were beneficial and made life interesting and wonderful, but he would have loved the house if it were vacant and cold and bare and boring. The little rat loved the house because it was his home, and because his home loved him.

His home protected him from the rain and the snow and the cold and the heat, his home kept him entertained and safe and happy. He needed nothing and wanted for less.

Pappappappappappap.

He wanted to do something nice for his home. But what did he have to offer? He couldn’t fix the leaky roof, or replace a cracked tile, couldn’t put a chair back upright or even change a lightbulb.

Ultimately, he decided the best way he could show his love would simply be to live in his home. His home would understand his limitations, while still seeing that the little rat stayed because he wanted to, and because staying was important to him.

He climbed higher and higher, ascending more and more wooden slats and boards, scurrying from opening to opening, until finally: a break in the wall.

Drywall parted, and the little rat felt himself becoming giddy. He inched forward, his little nose twitching furiously, his little black eyes boggling.

He panted slightly, having climbed all the way up to the second floor. A journey that would take a human seconds had taken him several minutes. He looked out from his little hole in the drywall to see the ancient chandelier at eye level. If he wanted, he could climb all the way to the very top, and look down onto the chandelier. He’d done this several times, and would, inevitably, do it again.

But there was something magical to being eye level with the sparkly glass. He would say nature played a cruel joke on him, leading him to his home and cursing him with his blurred vision, stopping him from admiring the intricate details of the crystal before him, but the simple problem with this is that he didn’t know any better, didn’t know there was a world outside of the outlines and colors he saw. He loved his home for its outlines and colors, for the way that the chandelier caught the light at certain hours of the day. He loved the sparkle of the rainbow that was cast about the entryway.

Nature was not cruel, nature did not punish him or play jokes. It loved him. It loved him the way he loved his home, it protected him and marveled at him and delighted in his joy.

He sat there, squeaking with great contentment as the sun went down and its rays caught the glass, bathing him and the home he loved in color.

[yukimiyaz]

Aki doesn’t necessarily crave change.

In all honesty, he quite likes things being the way that they are. Having a—somewhat, most of the time—normal routine he can follow. Clock in and clock out and pick up takeout from that one restaurant on the corner on his way home. Make sure Power and Denji don’t try to steal the ramen shop’s cat as they pass by. It’s relatively nice, he thinks. Having a day to day.

But now he’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror and he just.. wonders.

“Power knocked Denji through the bedroom wall again. So we gotta fix it, again,” you sigh as you come in and lean your head on his shoulder. “And Meowy’s stuck on the fridge and won’t come down, so I might need your help with that.”

Aki hums, nods. He figures he can stop by the hardware store to buy more drywall tomorrow after work. And he doesn’t mind to come rescue the cat off the top of the fridge. But he doesn’t move, just tips his head at himself in the mirror.

He's been told many times that it wouldn’t kill him to loosen up, but he doesn’t think he’s all that stoic. Yes, he agrees he is blunt, but he is still soft for those he cares about, no? Is that not enough? Shouldn’t it be?

“Do you think I'm too uptight?”

The question comes out low, like he didn’t mean to even say it out loud, and you catch his gaze in the mirror. No, he decides, it is not enough that he thinks that way. He needs to make sure someone else does, too.

He needs to make sure you do.

“That depends, are we talking on bill day, or?” You’re joking with him, and normally he likes that. but now he just shifts his eyes off you in the mirror back to his own face. You frown, tug at his shirt sleeve until he looks down at you fully. “No. I think you’re curt and honest and take things seriously, but not in a bad way. You’re not like that deep down because you care. Why are you even asking that?”

He blinks at you. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t particularly want to answer that question because now as he thinks about the reasoning behind what’s got him thinking this way it just seems silly. And what if you laugh at him, heaven forbid?

But he finds it hard to not be honest with you. It's like you’ve signed a contract with an honesty devil, because you somehow always make him sing like a bird regardless of whether he wants to or not. And right now is no different.

“A colleague at work said that I was more uptight than my topknot.” He cuts his eyes from you, because it sounds even more minute coming out of his mouth. “So, I just thought..”

“What?” And your hands are on him, now. running up his chest and smoothing over his shoulders in the way you know soothes him after long and tiring days. He sighs into your touch, remembers his walls do not have to be up here, and lets you in.

“I think I'd like to cut my hair.”

He takes the next few moments to study you, gauge your reaction. there’s the tiniest twitch of your eyebrow, smallest intake of breath, little tilt of your lips. but nothing too expressive, too.. judgmental.

It's times like this that he remembers why he fell in love with you. Because even if he is not entirely conventional, you treat him as if he is anyways.

“Okay,” you say, light and easy and make a show of faux rolling your eyes. “Even though you’ve never gotten more than a trim in the numerous years we’ve been together. I guess it’s time for a change.”

And he doesn’t even need to say anything else before you’re leaning over to retrieve the hair scissors and clippers from the bottom drawer of the kitchen cabinet. Then you’re straightening back up and tapping your finger to your chin.

“Hmm, let’s see. What’re we thinking?” He’s about to answer you when you reach forward and grab his jaw, theatrically tipping his head this way and that as you hum. “A mohawk? buzz cut? Shaved heads are very in style now, you know. I think you could rock it.”

Aki narrows his eyes at that, loosely grabs the wrist you have held up to his face. 

“Very funny,” he gripes, but there’s no real venom in it because the smile on your face dilutes everything that comes out of his mouth. “I don't think I signed up for sarcasm with my haircut.”

You put your free hand on his shoulder and push him down onto the toilet seat before he can stop you. And he gulps just a bit, feels his stomach twist like it does when he sees you cooking breakfast in his shirt. You pat his cheek and he can’t stop himself from trying to chase after the warmth of your palm as you pull your hand away and start to reach for a comb.

“No, but you signed up for it when you got me, so.” You turn back to him and slide the comb through his hair as you step between his legs. “I'd say that it should’ve been a given.”

And that’s true and it is, but sometimes he just likes to pick. That's something that may feed into his apparently uptight reputation or break it down, he doesn’t know, but he never picks quite as much with anyone but you. You bring out the best of him, he’d argue. The parts of him that he thinks are far too soft and fragile for him to walk out into the world without shielding in armor. You ease him, and he likes that. You make him think change doesn’t have to be so bad.

“But seriously,” you hum, sliding your fingers through his hair, twisting the ends lazily. “What are you wanting?”

As he looks up at you from his spot on the toilet seat, he finds his mind slightly drifting from the matter at hand. You look nice today. You’re wearing his cologne, he detects. There’s a flake of something in your hair that he suspects to be from Power and Denji breaking the wall. You seem to handle everything so effortlessly, even though he knows that isn’t quite true. And he realizes something.

“Surprise me,” Aki says, and feels his lips twitch at the way your face lights up. 

You make quick work of it. Like you’ve thought about this before. Mapped out a route of change for him prior to him even asking. He wonders what else you’ve thought about changing in life.

Maybe he should bring up changing the paint on your bedroom walls. Maybe he should ask if you’d like a different brand of spices at the store. Maybe he should inquire about your thoughts on getting another cat. Maybe he should see what you think of replacing the worn out sofa with something better.

He sits on the toilet seat and watches you focus. Smiles at the way you bite your lip in concentration and tilting and turning his head when you tell him to. His hands have politely made their way to the backs of your thighs, mindlessly playing with the hem of your shorts as you ask him about his day and tell him of your own. His cheeks heat up when you catch his eye and smile at him, and his fingers tighten on your legs when you lean down to give him a peck every now and then.

And with each wisp of hair that falls from the scissors and each buzz of the clippers by his ear he finds himself leaning into change easier and easier until you’re taking a step back and admiring what you’ve stripped from him.

“You’re scaring me,” Aki chuckles under his breath as he takes in the look you’re giving him. You’re chewing the inside of your cheek, holding out a hand to him as you bounce on the balls of your feet.

He takes it, as he always does and always will, and lets you drag him back in front of the mirror and turn him until he’s looking at himself. And the breath leaves him all at once.

You've clipped the sides, faded it out and shortened his hair all around and given him layers of some sort. He cuts his eyes to your excited face in the mirror for a split second and wonders if you secretly went to some barber school he isn’t aware of. It’s just so.. nice. It fits him; suits him. His face looks like him, and he knows that should be obvious but it’s different than before. It’s…

“What do you think?” you ask, and you’re half wrapped around his arm now as you blink up at him. “Do you like it? You said surprise you but that’s so nerve wracking so I really just tried to do something that would be more manageable and—“

Aki turns to kiss you so fast that if you didn’t have a grip on his arm already then you might’ve just fallen backwards onto the bathroom tile.

“It's perfect. I love it,” he breathes as he pulls back, looks back into the mirror for a split second before pressing another peck to your lips, “I love you. Thank you.”

And you’re beaming, now. Painting that smug look on your face that you get when you’re cocky as you wrap your arms around his neck. He loves it, adores it. He kisses you one more time before you turn your face from him with a giggle.

“Psh, knew you would. I'm perfect at everything you know. I should charge you, actually. Send you a bill.”

He’s about to jibe back with you—maybe ask if he could repay the favor by making dessert and doing the dishes tonight—but there’s a yell of your name from a few rooms over that sounds suspiciously like Denji’s cry for help when power is fighting with him that drags you away. You peck his lips and grin at him before you scurry your way out of the bathroom and to whatever sort of commotion is going on now.

Aki turns himself back to the bathroom mirror, studies the man staring back at him. He slides a hand back through his freshly cut hair, lets the new buzz tickle his fingertips. His own touch isn’t as delicate as yours, doesn’t welcome the change as gracefully as you do. He turns from the mirror and scuffs his feet across the tile to follow you to the debacle that you’ve been called to split up. And as he watches you soothe an overly dramatic Denji and calm down a riled up power, he thinks.

No, Aki doesn’t suppose that he necessarily craves change, but he finds that he doesn’t quite mind it. And as he stares at the hand you have patting Denji’s head while you flash him an exasperated grin, some of his loose hairs stuck to your shirt, he figures there’s one more change he’s more than ready to make.

Maybe he should start picking out a ring.

[pfhwrittes]

i’m so deeply sad at the moment that i’m surrounding myself in fluffy fluffy fics and just hoping for a soft landing for myself but when i try to write it’s just either a) minimal effort or b) so fucking sad

like i’m trying to write a retail hell au with the tf141 boys but yeah. anyway have some notes under the cut about where i’ve stuck the boys so far.

so imagine with me that for whatever reason tf141 end up working in B&Q (home depot for those of you over the pond)

gaz works in the kitchens, bathrooms and bedroom department as a designer/consultant. why? because he’s pretty and can charm anyone into an upsell. oh you came in to get a quote on cheap sanitary ware (toilet, sink, bathtub/shower)? suddenly the customer (“client, they’re always clients. sounds better y’know?”) walking out with a £2000 order containing new tiles, a waterfall shower head, walk in shower array, £120 basin taps, a new towel warmer and a beautiful mirrored cabinet. you love watching him work because he’s just so charming and personable. always shoots you a wink from behind the computer too.

simon works stockflow. he’s in the warehouse or yard exclusively. smashes through deliveries and stock at a rapid pace and then stands in the yard smoking. no he doesn’t need any help, fuck off. leave it alone you’re going to fuck up his system. incredibly territorial over the yard/warehouse and only lets john, soap, gaz in. has a hand written sign pinned by the doors “NO ENTRY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. ESPECIALLY FOR YOU.” the store a manager takes it down periodically. simon puts it back up. nods at you when you pass the entrance to the warehouse but doesn’t speak. coincidentally he seems to be by the entrance shuffling delivery notes or paperwork whenever you walk past.

soap technically works the interior decorating department. technically. he loves working on the paint mixing desk and flirting with all the women that come up looking for just the right shade of whatever trendy colour has been advertised in home and gardens this season but will absolutely wander off to go bother price/gaz/simon/you whenever he feels like it. constantly being called for on the tannoy system “this is a staff announcement could john mactavish please return to the paint desk, customers waiting. that’s john mactavish to the paint desk. thank you”. you’re positive he ignores the first tannoy call just so he can hear you get more exasperated on the second and third call you put out for him.

price is the hardware, electrical and plumbing supervisor and technically the stockflow supervisor. barely ever steps foot in the warehouse aside from a quick check in because he knows simon has it covered. hates management meetings and always finds himself something time critical/difficult to put down when he knows there’s one coming up. a constant presence on the shop floor. always the first supervisor to respond to the tannoy when a customer is kicking up a fuss at the customer service desk. always seems to know where you are, whether that’s on the customer service desk, serving customers on the checkouts or putting away go backs in various aisles. checks in frequently with a little smile and a “alright love?” before moving on to whatever task he can do to keep him out of the store manager’s sights. reminds everyone to take their breaks regardless of whether or not they’re technically part of his department.

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 4

Picture for Banner: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU

Warnings: Ab*se, Violence, Mental Health, Cursing, Smut (mild), treat it as a normal Enemies 2 Lovers book, but the A/B/O dynamic will appear at some point.

Crossposted on: Wattpad & AO3

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Chapter 4

The sound of the alarm was blasting nonstop next to his head, and he groaned loudly as he opened his eyes.

He looked over to see it was 6:00 AM. 

Eddie ran his hands over his face, and he rubbed his hair which was still wet from the prior night, having to take a shower as soon as he got home. He groaned as he slowly sat up, his hair falling over his shoulders, feeling the cold of it against his bare skin. He swung his legs over the bed, finally getting up to get a big stretch.

He walked outside of his room, heading towards his kitchen to get a glass of water, before going to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, and saw the tiredness in his eyes. He shouldn’t have stayed longer than he should. He’ll just message Gareth to open up the shop himself so he could sleep in a little bit. He opened the cabinet behind the mirror, and retrieved an orange pill bottle.

He opened it to take one of the large pills out, immediately chugging it down with a gulp of water. He closed the pill bottle and put it back into the cabinet, only to retrieve one of the small glass vials with a purple liquid in them. He only had to do this once a week, and it was due for him to inject a new dose. 

He got a one-use sterile syringe from one of the drawers below and some cotton and rubbing alcohol. He put everything down on the sink and grabbed some of the cotton, drenching it in alcohol, to clean the area between his neck and shoulder. He then opened the pack of the syringe and took it out, to then fill it with the purple liquid that was in the vial. He tapped a few times to make the bubbles come out and then stretched his neck, injecting the medicine there.

He huffed a bit. He was used to this by now, because his health and his condition had been like this since he was 16. He felt how his whole body cooled down just a bit and he groaned in relief as it did. He was glad he had some tattoos running towards his neck, hiding the needle marks he has there from over the years. 

He pulled the needle out and pressed some cotton on his neck to seal the small puncture. He noticed the anger last night, worse than a normal day, and he knew it was because he was due to this injection. He started tidying his bathroom up and then closed the cabinet to look at his reflection again.

He remembered his interaction with you. He was angry, beyond words after you threw the liquid into his face, and he got even angrier after you threw yourself onto him, ready to punch him square in the cheek. He was stronger than you, he knows it, and he kept his hands to himself as best as he could, but he was starting to see red last night, and he was glad that Steve knows about his condition and immediately took him away from you.

But if he couldn’t hurt you physically, then he would hurt you with words, and that’s what he did. What he didn’t know is that his words hurt you on a different level than he thought they would. Eddie winced at the memory of your distant eyes, when all he wanted was for you to go at him again, yell, throw a slap or something.

But you just stood still, looking at him, and then calmly left without speaking to anybody. He knows there’s so much more to your life than what you give Robin, and that’s the main reason he doesn’t like you. Robin is there to give you her full trust, and her friendship, just like she did for him, yet you didn’t want to open up to her, to anybody for that fact. 

He was seeing his own friends, fighting for someone’s trust who didn’t even acknowledge it, or cared that they did. You weren’t even thankful enough to give them your real story, or your real motives. You often lied about your dates going well, and he won’t ever forget how you lied about wanting to go on a date with Jonathan.

It was a week after meeting you, Eddie really thought of apologizing and starting over, thinking that if you didn’t talk about your past it must be because of some personal reason he doesn’t have the right to meddle in. But then, Jonathan asked you out, and his friend had liked you since the first moment he saw you, but you; you accepted the invitation, already knowing you saw him as a friend.

And that irritated him even more.

He protected his friends like family, and something about you was completely off with him. He didn’t trust you, he didn’t like you, but his friends did for some unknown reason, and that might be because he didn’t get to know you personally and they did, but his first impression of you was enough for him to not be interested in doing so.

Whatever it is that you went through was obvious that you didn’t want anything to do with it anymore, but still, Eddie believes his friends deserve an explanation, and even more so if you were going to snap at him like you did last night. He doesn’t even want the explanation himself, he just wants his friends, who actually like you and trust you completely, to receive the same kind of trust from you.

He groaned as he clenched his fists against the sink, taking a deep breath in and cracking his neck, side to side. Should he apologize to you? Should he even try? But why would he? What good would it do? You won’t believe his apology, so maybe the best option here is to simply shut up about it, and let it go behind you both, put it in the past.

“Fuck.” He sighed heavily as the flash of your eyes came back to his mind. He really did fucking hurt you with that one. He blamed himself for it, for not being careful about his medication. He should have taken everything the day before, because if he did, maybe your lies wouldn’t have gotten to him the way they did. It’s not like you’re a special case, it happened to everyone at least once.

Steve never took it personally when Eddie would snap at him when his meds were running low in his system, but he did get into a fight with Robin once. That lasted for a whole week, and he took the matter in his own hands, showing at her home with flowers, and a pair of tickets to go see the nutcracker, even if Eddie fucking hated ballet.

He winced at the memory of forgetting his meds back here when he visited Wayne in Hawkins. He had to drive his uncle away because he was afraid of hurting the poor old man. He took a deep breath to look at himself in the mirror again. He hated this of himself, he hated it, with every fiber in his body, but there’s nothing he can do but keep taking his meds to balance his emotions out. 

He turned the light of the bathroom off to head back towards his bedroom, immediately flopping onto the bed, head first. He grabbed his cellphone and messaged Gareth to open the shop for him, that he feels sick and will come in some time later. He blocked his phone and put it on the night table again, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before closing his eyes.

He should have taken the meds one day prior.

—————————————————

He cursed in excitement as he turned the ignition key of an old Ford and the engine came to life. He had to put a lot of money in spare parts but the owner of the car had agreed either way in the repair. 

“Food delivery!” Steve yelled loudly into the garage with four bags of Five Guys. Gareth and Jeff rushed towards him, starving and finally able to have a lunch break.

“God, Harrington, you are godsend.” Gareth exclaimed with a relieved sigh as he took his own bag of food while Steve chuckled, handing Jeff his own, who was rolling his eyes at his friend’s exaggeration. Eddie closed his car’s door, confused as to why Steve came by to his shop, but he won’t deny the bag of fast food in front of him. He walked towards him, ready to take the bag but Steve pulled it away from him, earning a glare from Eddie’s part.

“Oh no… You and I have some talking to do.” And shit. Eddie groaned loudly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Seriously Harrington?” Eddie stood his ground against Steve but the younger male didn’t budge, he simply shrugged and smirked at his friend.

“If we don’t talk, you get no food. Easy as that, and it’s your fucking favorite Munson.” At that Eddie’s ears perked up and he looked back at Gareth and Jeff who were already devouring their burgers and Eddie’s stomach grumbled in protest. He turned to Steve again, snatching the bag of food from his hands before walking outside of the garage.

Steve smiled at his friend’s antics and walked behind him, following him to the back of the garage where Eddie took his smoke breaks and he had a nice picnic table set so that he and the boys could have breaks with some fresh air. They both sat down, across from each other, and they started taking the food out of their bags. Steve munched on a fry as Eddie started preparing his burger with some of his fries inside.

“So… Care to tell me what the fuck happened yesterday?” Eddie winced at that and shook his head, closing his burger.

“She started it, Steve. She threw the beer on my face.” Eddie says, taking a bite out of his burger and Steve squinted at his friend.

“Yeah, of course, but I bet that she didn’t do it for the hell of it Munson… So what did you say to her?” Eddie looked at his friend with an offended look in his eyes and shook his head as he swallowed the bite.

“I am your best friend, and you don’t believe me?” 

“Fuck no.” Eddie’s eyes widened slightly at Steve and then nodded as if deep in thought.

“I see how it is, Harrington.” At that Steve scoffed, already tired of Eddie’s dramatism.

“I believe you in everything else, but I don’t trust that you didn’t say anything to her for her to become like that.” Eddie looked down at his food as he ate quietly, deliberating if to simply talk it out, or keep it inside, but he knew that the pounding on his heart and the guilt he felt in his belly wasn’t just going to disappear. He sighed and put his burger down on the wrapped as he ran his hands through his face.

“I could tell she was lying about her date… Once again.” Steve shook his head as he took a bite out of his burger. “I mean, Steve, I’m sorry I just fucking hate liars. I hate people that try to fit in, and I hate even more the fact that you all trust her but she doesn’t trust you back.” At that, Steve rolled his eyes as he swallowed.

“You think I tell her my biggest secrets Eddie? Seriously, just because she doesn’t want to tell us about whatever she went through in Atlanta, doesn’t make her a bad person.” Steve explained and now it was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes.

“What if she did something back there? What if she did something bad? Something she is ashamed of saying?” Eddie exclaims as he takes a big bite out of his burger again and then a sip of his drink.

“Then if she is ashamed it means she regrets it. Eddie, we trust the girl we met now, not the girl she wants to forget.” At that, Eddie stared down at his food, his mind going back to your absent eyes as you looked at noone in particular. It didn’t look like someone who did something bad, but rather, it looked like they did wrong to you at some point. His stomach twisted and he cursed loudly because it was messing with his hunger.

“I went overboard last night…” Steve nodded as he took a fry in his mouth and his eyebrows raised up feigning surprise.

“No fucking shit.” 

“My meds were due… I should of taken them yesterday morning.” Eddie looked up at the sky as he took a deep breath in, and his eyes immediately went to Steve, who was looking at him with worry.

“You okay with that? The meds are okay?” Steve asked and Eddie nodded, finally feeling the knot go away in his stomach and start eating again. Steve knew Eddie didn’t like talking about his condition, so he changed subjects again. “Are you going to say sorry to her?” Eddie almost chokes on a fry at that.

“No way. It would only make matters worse really. Just let some time go by and we’ll see from there, until then it might be better to not cross paths with her.” Eddie explains and Steve huffs at him, putting his drink down.

“Are you seriously going to run away from that? I mean, maybe if you apologize, you can get a new friend.” Eddie looked at him with a skeptical look in his eyes.

“I won’t tolerate her lying to me in my face, Harrington, I’m not like you, or anyone else for that matter.” Steve caught on his words and bit the inside of his cheek, and simply gave up on the subject. The worst part is that you both might even be good friends, and Steve knows it, everyone knows it, except for you and Eddie. Your tastes are alike, your sense of humor is the same, your exaggerated banterings are the same. 

But Steve understood, or at least he tried to. He understands that Eddie’s condition is not one that would let him trust people that easily, but he can’t help but think that the older male is a little bit hypocritical. 

Steve and Dustin are the only ones that know about his condition, about his sickness. Eddie never opened up about it to Robin, Nancy, Argyle or Jonathan. It was just a coincidence and simply bad timing, but if you think about it, it was excellent timing, because if Steve didn’t rush Eddie to his doctor in time, he didn’t know what Eddie would have done in that state.

“Fine… Just, don’t get on her nerves anymore Ed… Not like that. She looked deeply hurt with your last words.” And Eddie winced again, not wanting to remember your face any longer, because he remembered your despair, your nervousness, your fear. He could see it all. He knew Steve wanted to help, but what was done was done, and there really wasn’t a way to go back on his words now. 

“Just let it go, Steve. She and I are never going to be friends.” And Steve gave a scoff at that, already putting away the trash in the fast food bag.

“You’re impossible. I hope you know that.” Eddie nodded in understanding but a small tug of the lips happened at the corner of his lips. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his messages, searching for Wayne’s last conversation. He opened it and took a deep breath before sending a greeting to him. Steve noticed the slight switch of emotions in his friend’s eyes and body movement and cracked his knuckles as he looked at him. “Is he better?”

Eddie gulped and put his phone away as he put the trash away from his food, taking final sips of his drink. He rarely talked about himself, or his feelings, or about his family in general, and Steve was glad he could make his friend at least give him the short version of things.

“Lucia is taking care of him… She says he does look more energized after the last chemo session.” He replies, still not looking at Steve, but his friend noticed the lack of response of ‘yes’ or ‘no’. So he wasn’t going to nudge any further into that topic. He knew Wayne is the last family member Eddie’s got, and since he was diagnosed with cancer last year, Eddie’s been reluctant to actually let other people inside his life. 

The older male didn’t do things because of malice. He just believed that keeping people away is better than driving them in, knowing that one day they will probably leave, by their own accord, or life would simply run out on them. He is bracing himself for Wayne’s departure, because he knows there’s no way of stopping lung cancer, it’s just buying time for the inevitable. 

His mood darkened at the thoughts and he groaned, standing up and Steve followed, looking at Eddie with a pained look in his face.

“You know that we’re here… right?” Steve reminded his friend, and Eddie felt his chest warm at his words. He gave a small nod as he patted Steve’s shoulder.

“Thank you for the food. Go help Jonathan, I’m sure you left him completely alone at the bar.” Steve waved at him with a ‘pff’ noise in his lips. 

“He can handle an hour without me.” He said with a smile and Eddie shook his head with a chuckle, looking towards his shop. 

“Okay, let me know if there are any plans for the week… And, well…” Eddie didn’t go on with his words, rubbing the back of his neck. Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“We are not going to invite one and not the other. We’ll invite you both, and it will be up to you to see if you can stand one another.” Steve said with a frown to his face, and Eddie understood, nodding at him. He didn’t want to face you, he really didn’t. Not because he is scared, or because he is afraid of what could happen, but because he would want to apologize to you, and that will only make matters worse. He knows you don’t want him talking to you.

So distance it is.

—————————————————

End of chapter 4

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