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loveshotzz · 9 months

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All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap nine/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Ask Me What I’m Thinking About

summary: Baseball can be a dirty game.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: 18+ some drinking, semi public fooling around (in a skybox), steve gets a little too worked up teaching you the rules of the game😏 (slight daddy kink)

authors note: I can’t believe we’re at the second to last chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s been reading and all your sweet words this whole series, you guys really are the best 🧡

🌇 <- chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

The kiss lingered on your lips for days after the Fourth of July. A week at work lost in daydreams about the man that tasted like lemonade and stole your breath under fireworks at the lake. Fingertips trace the places graced by his lips to try and keep the feel of them fresh in your mind, impatiently counting down the days till you see him again.

You tug at the bottom hem of your sundress standing at Steve’s front door. It’s shorter than you’re used to, and the shade of red it was could never be found in your wardrobe until earlier this week. You’d fallen victim to an after work shopping trip with a coworker who had persuasive opinions that had you feeling confident when you looked in the long mirror of the fitting room. Her words ringing in your head like a mantra as you take a deep breath before knocking. Somersaults and cartwheels in your stomach, you wonder if it will always feel like the first time.

Bandit’s loud bark makes your cheeks push up in the kind of smile you usually only give to Steve. The sound of long nails scraping excitedly on the other side of the door followed by his owner's deep bellow of his name only make it grow more. Butterflies take flight when you hear the click of the lock, another tug and a second deep breath.

“Bandit stop- Hey - oh wow, baby.” Standing there with the door half open, Steve drinks you in with hungry eyes. They roam up the expanse of your thighs, licking his lips when he sees how dangerous a strong breeze can be. “You look - wow, you look beautiful.”

It feels like summer heat on your cheeks, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to beam. Maybe Jenny from work was right. Your eyes are just as greedy as his when you notice the tight fit of his jeans, and the white cubs jersey with the top two buttons undone. It makes his tan darker, along with the crisp tank top underneath. The silver chain around his neck catches in the sun from its place of the soft patch of chest hair that you’re realizing is always on display. His feet are bare and it makes you shift from side to side like it’s something intimate.

“You look very easy on the eyes yourself Mr. Harrington.” You giggle and it makes him blush a furious red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Bandit whines impatiently behind Steve, his nails tapping against the wood floor.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s coming in, calm down.” He opens the door a little more, turning around with one hand on the handle to usher the dog back to let you in. Your eyes catch his last name patched onto the back of his jersey like it's official. The realization that it probably is intimidates you.

It almost smells like the last time you were here, the rich cedar undertones are met with a hint of Bandit when you cross the threshold. He gives you a loud excited bark for good measure before his owner cuts him loose, shutting the door behind you. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him from jumping when you welcome him with open arms and a high pitched “hiii, handsome!”

Steve rolls his eyes dramatically when Bandit whines licking your face, but the smile he can’t fight gives him away.

“Alright, that’s enough. I didn’t even get my kiss yet buddy.” Steve chuckles, snapping his fingers making Bandit fall back on all fours in a huff.

I didn’t even get my kiss yet.

The words make your breath catch in your throat, Steve was going to kiss you again. He was just going to do that now, whenever he wants, and you’re gonna let him.

“Gettin’ jealous or somethin’ Steve?” You tease trying to hide the way he sets your skin on fire when his darkened eyes look at you like that.

“What if I am?” His voice drops to something new, something dirtier and it makes your thighs clench.

One of his hands finds its way to where your dress sinches and smooths out at your waist, while the other rests against the wood behind you. He takes the few steps that have your back pressing against the door, fingers squeezing softly at your side before he reaches up to cup your cheek in the warmth of his palm. Looking down over the sharp line of his nose, the pad of his thumb traces the sticky silk of your glossed bottom lip. He wonders what flavor it is today, he can’t wait to find out.

“I’d tell you to do something about it then.” It’s a little shy the way it comes out just above a whisper, meeting his gaze from under your lashes.

His nose brushes with yours, the mint from his toothpaste fanning cool against your cheeks. Needy fingers find their way to his belt loops giving him a gentle tug closer and it makes him grin, you let his lips be a phantom against yours, impatience winning when you pull him in.

It’s gentle at first and it feels like fireworks at the lake, like the butterflies from your first date. It’s when your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck that he presses his weight against you. His thumb pulls at your chin begging you to open up for him while his knee pushes its way between your legs. A week of being kept apart with nothing but thoughts of this has your tongues meeting greedy in the middle when you get lost in it. Spoiled with it. Noses press against cheeks and he can taste the tangerine that coats your lips in a sticky sweet mess.

He groans when you bite at his bottom lip, thick eyebrows marrying in the middle when he kisses you harder, his knee getting a little bolder, getting closer. He can feel the heat that radiates from between your thighs like this and he curses at how short your dress is. Were you trying to kill him? Irrational jealousy pangs in his chest at all the guys that’ll get to look at you like this today. Guys your age.

Bandit barks at something he sees outside making you both jump apart. Even with kiss bitten lips and a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you already miss him. He laughs quietly, pressing his forehead with yours the golden specs in his mossy eyes gleam feeling like a teenager again. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all week if I’m being honest.” Steve confesses, long fingers finding yours, lacing them together like he needs you.

“I was terrible at my job this week, and it was definitely your fault.” You grin looking up at him like you love it.

The two of you stand there for a minute letting your eyes take in features that had started to soften in your memories. He smiles before bumping his nose with yours one more time, stealing a quick peck pulling away before you have a chance to kiss back smirking at your small pout.

“Let me get my shoes on and we’ll get out of here. We’ll get some dogs at Wrigley.” Steve calls over his shoulder, ruffling Bandit’s head on his way up the stairs.

“Dogs?” You snort under your breath so he can’t hear, your fingers finding their way back to Bandits fur scratching him behind his ears. You swear he’s smiling when he pants looking up at you with big friendly eyes.

You gaze towards his kitchen as you try to catch the breath he took with him up to his room, the memory of your almost first kiss feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not long before Bandit takes advantage of Steve’s absence, snorting playfully before he trots to the living room. Long nails click against the wood floors when he comes back making your heart swell when the stupid dancing banana you won at the block party sits in his mouth. Its stitched eye is already half gone, and an arm just barely hanging on.

“This your banana, cute guy?” You coo with a sweet smile, reaching out to accept his invitation to play tug of war with the plush toy.

You’re a mess of giggles when he starts ‘growling’ at you and trying to rip it from your grasp, pulling you forward every so often when he pushes back on his paws for an extra hard tug. Too lost in your own world, you don’t notice Steve watching from the top of the staircase. The necklace he bought last week burns a hole in his pocket, especially seeing you like this. He knows he’s already in love and it makes him want to laugh. Classic Steve. The hushed conversation he had with Eddie on the phone in his room lights a fire inside him.

“It’s a necklace, it’s not a ring Steve. I stopped waiting around for the ‘right’ time and now I’m tryna start a family with the love of my life. What sign are you looking for, big guy? She’s seen your darkest parts and she’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You looked too pretty in that dress not to be his.

You finally get the toy away from Bandit, throwing it far enough for his paws to slide in place for a second before he takes off after it. Too busy laughing at the way he shakes the toy from side to side when he finally gets it between his teeth, you don’t hear Steve come up behind you. The fresh spice of his cologne hitting your nose gives him away first, the big hands that grab at your waist to pull you against his chest, the second.

“Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss behind your ear that makes you shiver. He likes that he can do that.

“Not really, I was having a pretty good time with Bandit actually.” He can’t see your shit eating grin, but he knows it's there.

“Not even a little bit?” He presses with a smirk in his voice, his lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can’t help but tilt your head, giving him more to kiss.

“Maybe,” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, lashes fluttering when there’s a gentle nip at the dip of your neck. “Maybe a little bit.”

Steve smiles against your skin, humming in approval at your admission keeping you close for a few more minutes, and you realize you’d be more than happy to just do this the rest of the day.

“Before we head out, I uh - “ He clears his throat, going a little stiff against your back as he starts digging in his pocket, “I got you something.”

You feel the way his hands shake, and it makes you want to turn around but the grip on your hip only tightens to keep you in place.

“It’s easier to give it to you like this.” He mumbles, giving you a reassuring squeeze, your heart thumps wildly in your chest.

“Steve what are you -“ Your sentence dies on your tongue when you feel something dainty and cold wrap around your neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively and the tips of them meet the smoothness of a stone that dangles at the end of it. The necklace.

“I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s o - you just said you liked it and -“ Steve’s a mess of nerves behind you while you look down, fingers toying with the stone, awestruck at the gesture. “If you think it’s weird I can -“

Turning around you cut him off with your lips, tangerine gloss in the form of appreciation makes him smile into the kiss. You keep it short this time, pulling away no matter how much your body screams for more. You start to think you’ll never have enough. Is this what it’s like to be in love?

“Steve, I love it” You whisper rolling back on your heels, your fingers already obsessed with touching the stone as you look up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.”

His cheeks turn to cherry blossoms, all the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing, Eddie was right.

“Yeah?” He wants to hear you say it again, and he can tell by your grin and the glint in your eyes that you know he does too.

“Absolutely, I’m probably never going to take it off.” You giggle looking down in admiration again and it makes Steve feel like a million bucks. He never wants you to take it off either.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand as you walk up to the main gates of Wrigley Field, fingers intertwining like he doesn’t want to let go when he shows the security guard his work badge and you suppress the urge to grab it from him when you make it inside. The urge to see the picture lessened knowing that the chances of it actually being bad were slim to none.

The stadium is intimidating when it’s empty, your mind reeling when you think of what it’s going to be like in an hour when the stands are filled with screaming fans. Concession stand workers bustle around the two of you in preparation for the onslaught of sports goers. Summer hangs heavy in the air with the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. It smells of fresh cut grass, pop corn, and hot dogs. The perfect day for a baseball game.

Your eyes grow wide when they land on the bright green field that looks even bigger than on TV, it’s the kind of green you know can’t be real with crisp white lines that lead to each of the bases. There’s a few players out practicing, they wave at Steve when they notice him. His fingers squeeze yours tighter when one of them smiles a little too friendly in your direction. The memory of you in his car on the way here admiring the necklace in the visor keeps his jealousy at bay. You were his.

“You gonna give me the grand tour or somethin’?” You ask with eyes unable to focus on anything in particular, still mesmerized by how big it all was while the two of you head in a pointed direction.

“Just grabbing something out of my office for Richard, and then I’ll show you around.” Steve winks and the gesture makes your knees weak.

“Ooo I get to see your office?” You grin, bumping shoulders. It makes his cheeks push up.

“It’s nothin’ special, baby.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand, fingers curling around your hips to pull you into his side instead. Your heart skips a beat, looping your arms around his waist, still not used to his affection coming so effortlessly like he’s been doing this his whole life with you.

It feels like a maze while he leads you through the stadium, twists and turns down long back hallways, tight lipped greetings every time someone walks by throwing him a ‘Steve’ with a nod of their head. Their curious eyes always land on you tucked under his arm. Who is that? Your palms sweat at the thought of how Steve was going to introduce you. The gift around your neck makes your mind wander.

It’s when you get to an elevator that you decide there’s definitely no way you’d be able to find your way out of here alone. More than confused when the back of it is all windows overlooking the opposite side of the field you had come in from. Steve laughs from behind you as if he can read your mind, big hands finding their way to the metal bar, caging you in with your back against his chest.

It takes you to the very top with a loud ding before it drops a little and the metal doors slide open. He doesn’t let you get too far before he takes your hand again to lead you down a hallway. The white walls are lined with awards, plaques, and framed Sports Illustrated covers filled with faces of different baseball players, some you recognize and some you don’t, as you make your way to the very end. You try not to make eye contact with the few men who have their doors crack half way open.

“Just gotta find the plans for next season really quick, then we’ll go see Eddie’s guy Antonio. If I don’t buy hot dogs from him specifically, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Steve rolls his eyes at the last part but you catch the hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he unlocks his office door, pushing it open to let you in.

“I’m startin’ to think Eddie might be your boyfriend. Were you talkin’ to him in your room earlier? Does Peach know?” You tease looking up at him as you brush past, and you’re not surprised when the smell of cedar hits your nose again. The faint hint of cigar smoke creeping in underneath. Of course his office smells like him.

Steve’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink when he realizes he wasn’t as quiet on the phone as he thought.

“I was just - I was just following up with him on something about my trip out there in a few days.” He stammers, making you giggle. You try not to think about the news of him leaving again so soon.

“Yeah, whatever you say, handsome.” You grin and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, the whites of his teeth showing in spite of himself.

“Ha ha, very funny.” He dead pans before making his way around his desk that just looks like a bigger version of the one in his house. An actual desktop replaces the sleek laptop. He clicks the mouse harshly before his long fingers work the keyboard.

It’s hard to tear your attention away from him but your curiosity gets the best of you. His office is huge, you think. Maybe the size of your whole apartment kinda huge, and it's just as nice as you thought it would be.

A giant window that overlooks the entire field takes up one whole wall, walking over you realize you’re so far back that it makes the grown men out there look small. Your chest tightens when you see how high up you are. The rest of the walls are decorated with similar pictures like his office at home, group shots of work retreats, team building dinners, shaking hands with people you’re sure are important in the sports world and he looks handsome in all of them.

There’s a baseball bat propped in the corner, and the image of him on his bluetooth swinging it around in his office while making a deal, makes a home inside your head and the dough of your thighs press. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, he’s too lost in whatever he’s searching for in his emails to notice the smirk on your face, his bright eyes squinting at the screen.

It’s heavier than expected when you grab it, the weight of it making it feel like a weapon in your hands. You do your best to remember what you’ve seen a few times on TV as you try to grip it how a real player would, before giving it a sloppy swing, your wrists almost giving out on the curve.

“Honey, you’re holding it all wrong.” You can hear the way he tries to suppress his laugh, the sound of his shoes hitting the carpet telling you he’s coming to assist.

“Oh yeah, Mr. Big League?” Regripping the wood again, you try your best to ignore him when he stops behind you, determined to do it without him.

“These nicknames, you need to stop. They aren’t very good.” He snorts, referring to the previous classic ‘Mr. Sports’.

That’s when he gets it. The first eye roll of the date. He thinks the first is always his favorite.

“I think it was the nicknames that got me the second date.” Grinning like an idiot you take another terrible swing.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break your wrist.” The laugh he was trying to hide earlier comes out when his arms wrap around you from behind, big hands over yours holding the bat steady and it makes you forget how to breathe for a second.

Steve’s arms cage you in and it feels like he’s everywhere. The mint on his breath still smells fresh when the side of his face presses against the top of your head, hot breath fanning across your cheek. The muscles in his stomach twitch against your back, while the ones in his arms tense, squeezing you close as his fingers move over yours helping you tighten your hold. You can barely see your hand underneath his and your stomach flips at the sight.

He’s talking but you can’t focus on the words he’s saying, not when you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the corner of your eye. The stubble on his jaw rubs against your temple as he tries to explain the proper stance on deaf ears. Pine form his body wash lingers on his skin, he overwhelms your senses but all you want is more. You can feel it in the way your body leans into him, the curve of your ass shameless against his denim.

“Okay, so that’s the grip. Now your stance, it’s all wrong.” His mouth is closer to your ear, lips ghosting along the shell of it demanding your attention. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have any of it and all of it at once and you swear he gets closer, a subtle grind of his own hips in response to yours.

“I’m listening,” you say breathlessly. It gives you away, making his lips curve up into a smirk.

“I’m sure you are, baby.” The tip of his nose nudges behind your ear, while his fingers make a path down your arms, the pads of them dragging gently against your heated skin, callouses leaving goosebumps after them. Your breath catches before they curve around your sides, squeezing at where the dip of your hips meets the top of your thighs.

“Now, you wanna push back your hips a little.” His strong hold moves your body with ease, making your ass press hard against him and you feel that part of his body for the first time. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it. Thump, thump, thump.

“Like this?” you ask, innocence dripping from your tone. When you grind against him with more pressure you can feel just how big he really is – especially as his jeans begin to tighten.

“Fuck - baby.” It comes out a little desperate, like he’s warning you but his hold only tightens keeping you in place. “Yeah, just like that.”

It’s his hips that roll this time, and it makes your eyes hit the back of your head. Your fingers threaten to come loose around the bat, too distracted by the man behind you. Especially when his lips ghost a path up the side of your neck, hot and wet.

“I think it’d be easier if I could have something to lean on, you know? I just really wanna teach you right.” He nips at your earlobe and it makes you shiver, pressing yourself back against him hard enough to feel the zipper of his jeans between the fat of your ass cheeks.

“You’re the professional, who am I to say no to you?” You knew you were laying it on thick, but the groan it earns makes you swallow your pride with a press of your thighs.

You squeal when he yanks you back, dropping the baseball bat to the ground with a low thud. Your giggles fill the usually quiet office and he wishes he could have you here all the time. He takes a couple long strides backwards before he hits the front of his desk, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on top of it. His hands get greedy when they reach around to grab at the tops of your thighs, the material of your dress bunching up underneath them, revealing more new skin to him. He wonders if you can feel just how hard you already have him.

“Despite not watching, like, any sports, something tells me this can’t be right, Steve.” You smirk, another giggle slipping out when you feel his smile against your neck.

“Like you would know.” He scoffs, his hands find their way back to your hips, encouraging another roll from them. The little gasp he earns makes him twitch in his pants. “Yeah?”

You nod with a ‘mmhmm’, eyes closing when he does it again. Tangerine on your tongue when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands finding a home on the tops of his thighs. You grind against him like you mean it, like you’re not playing along with whatever game this was before.

“God, - shit, baby, this dress. This fuckin’ dress. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” His lips get sloppy on your neck, tongue and teeth nipping on sensitive stubble rubbed skin.

Knock, knock, knock

You both jump at the same time, hearts hammering in your chests. The feeling of being close still makes your body buzz at high frequencies as you try to recover from the last five minutes.

“Steve?” The familiar voice is muffled behind the closed door.

You watch Steve readjust his pants to try and hide the obvious, a nervous hand running through his hair before he answers. You make him feel like a fucking teenager.

“Hey Richard,” The husk from Steve’s voice is gone as he looks at you to make sure you’re ready for company.

Tugging the hem of your dress down, you pull the straps back onto your shoulders giving him a quick nod, cheeks burning and underwear a mess.

“Come on in.”

Richard strikes again.

Steve takes one last look at you, dark eyes that eat you alive while his tongue rolls in against the inside of his cheek. Eyebrows marry together in a mixture of annoyance and lust when he realizes just how close he’d gotten to everything he wants.

The door creaks and it wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t so quiet. A tentative Richard steps into the room, brown eyes looking back and forth and you wonder if he can tell he interrupted something. You try to control your breathing, turning towards the window after you give him a friendly smile to try and hide the way your chest heaves.

You hate Richard.

“So we meet again.” He jokes trying to break the ice. Yeah, he knows.

Steve gives him a tight lipped smile pushing himself off the desk with another hand through his hair, the soft thuds of his shoes filling the beat of silence as he walks back behind his desk.

“I was just finishing printing out those spreadsheets for you.” Steve clears his throat and it makes your lips twitch, your eyes getting lost in the green field below you.

You can’t bring yourself to face his boss like this, again.

“Great! I’ll take them now. I was just coming up here to see if you and your lady were coming to the pre-game drinks at The Barrel Room downstairs, some of the guys wanna run some things by you.” You can hear Richard scratch the back of his neck when Steve doesn’t answer immediately.

Steve wants you alone. Now.

“You know I hate to mix business with games, but they really wanna meet the guy behind the marketing.” He adds, telling Steve it’s really not an option to say anything other than ‘yes’.

“Sure, sure. The game doesn’t start for another hour anyway.” Steve gives, and you meet his eyes from over your shoulder with a small smile that says it’s okay.

Despite the no smoking sign, the smell of cigars linger on most of the men in the members only bar under the field. Your summer dress feels out of place in a room full of business men dressed in their expensive casual attire. Their expensive cologne mixes with the sting of whiskey that’s over a sphere of ice in most of their glasses. Lit by a dimmed chandelier, small TV’s line the space over the bar with live feeds of the field and ESPN. The nicest sports bar you’ve ever seen.

Steve keeps a tight hold on your hand when he orders you both glasses of champagne and a bottle to be delivered to the suite, winking at you when he picks the sweet option.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t think I’d be doing anything for work today.” He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you to his side. His soft lips kiss your temple as a second apology.

“It’s fine, it’s actually kinda hot seeing you like this.” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you love the way it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Oh yeah?” He grins, the green in his eyes threaten to turn black when his hand slides a little lower, the tips of his fingers touching just above the curve of your ass. They twitch with the urge to squeeze.

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, just for him to hear, dripping honey like in his office. You turn your body towards him, pressing yourself closer with a palm running up his chest, fingers playing with buttons when you bite your bottom lip into a smile.

The low groan you get vibrates from his chest, his hand daring to go a little lower, pulling you even closer.

Clink, clink

The bartender slides the two flutes over, popping you both out of your bubble right as someone clears their throat behind you.

“Steve, they're over there in the corner. They just need maybe ten minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Richard’s voice breaks you two apart but Steve still keeps a hand on the small of your back as he hands your glass over, the popping and fizzing of the bubbles inside making it shimmer rose gold in the low light.

“Sure, I’ll follow you.” He takes a sip before bringing his eyes back to yours, the blunt ends of his nails scratch lightly against your back, giving you his undivided attention. “You gonna be okay for a little bit?”

“I’m a big girl, handsome.” You smirk around the edge of your glass, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you like that.

“I know you are, baby.” The smile that takes over his face knocks the air out of your lungs. Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he follows Richard to the two men across the room who are looking eager to meet the man you can’t get enough of.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and another glass of champagne, your eyes meeting Steve’s every so often across the room in a silent apology. This second glass is enough to make your skin come alive, fingertips buzzing and nerves melting. The bubbles tickle your lips when you take another sip, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder at the same time.

Licking your lips, the sweetness of your gloss mixes perfectly with the fruity hints of the champagne and it makes you give a quiet ‘mmm!’ when it hits your taste buds. Setting your drink down, you can feel him staring as you fix your dress. Your fingers wrap around the soft material, and you dare to meet his eyes again. The green forest you’re so used to getting lost in is replaced by the kind of darkness you’ve only seen in the night sky, the kind where the moon hides the stars in its depths. The men surrounding him are talking but he’s not paying attention, his sole focus is on you.

The two glasses of champagne makes you feel bold. Holding his stare, you move slowly when you pull it back to its home on the top of your shoulder. Soft fingertips drag across your skin, leaving the kind of goosebumps he usually gets and it makes his jaw clench. He needed to get out of here.

He knocks back the rest of his glass, saying something to the men that have stolen enough of his time from you. He finally excuses himself with a few strong handshakes and that million dollar smile. The one that always makes your thighs press. Running a hand through his hair as he pushes through the crowded bar, his eyes stay locked on yours, heavy lidded and hungry and it makes your stomach do flips.

“Ready to pay attention to me?” You pretend to pout when you turn around to face him. When you lean back on your elbows he can’t help but take in everything you’re offering him.

Big hands grab at your waist, pulling you against his chest. He’s got a lopsided salt and pepper grin when he dips his head down to skim his nose along your jaw before his lips stop right at your ear. They twitch when he feels the way it makes you shiver.

“More than you know, baby.”

The suite is somehow even nicer than you’d imagined it’d be, the kind of nice that makes you giggle when you take it all in. Flat screen TV’s hang from two separate places on the exposed brick walls. The bottle of champagne he’d ordered earlier sits chilled in a bucket on the marble countertop in the small kitchen with two glasses. The stainless steel fridge that you’re sure is fully stocked shines in the bright, low hanging lights.

The open concept leads to a living room area, a dark gray leather couch sitting in the middle looking way too comfortable for something like this. It faces a giant window that overlooks first base, high enough in the stadium for no one to be around you and gives out to a balcony with four seats to watch the game outside.

“Jesus Christ.” You laugh wandering around the new space, fingertips touching the cool leather of the couch as you look at one of the TV’s that hang over it. A crystal clear image of the game getting ready to start just outside. The empty stands were completely filled while you were busy in the boys club downstairs.

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.” Steve chuckles, the loud pop of the champagne being opened echoes in the big space. “I never watch games in the suites. Me and Ed are always in the stands. I was actually a little surprised when Richard offered it.”

Maybe Richard wasn’t that bad.

You can hear the way the bubbles fizz when he pours you each a glass, neither of you speaking. The realization you were finally alone hangs thick in the air. No more interruptions. The crowd cheers outside when the announcer booms through the speakers that line the outside of the field. The sounds of the game starting cuts through the tension like a knife. Steve clears his throat behind you, making you jump a little.

“Sorry, honey,” He smiles, trying not to laugh as he hands you a glass.

“Champagne and hot dogs? Steve, I think you’re trying to get me to fall in love with you,” you say, a part of you that feels like it’s already too late. You are in love with him.

“I still can’t believe you asked Antonio for ketchup, shoulda taken a picture of his face.” Steve snorts, cheeks turning pink at your words.

“Normal people eat their hot dogs with ketchup, Steve. I’ll ask for ketchup at every hot dog establishment in this city. I don’t care.” You roll your eyes at him for the second time today, and he thinks he’ll get a lot more of those by the end of the night as you keep sipping your sweet drink.

“I’ll make sure not to be there when you do.” Steve winks smiling over the edge of his glass and it makes you just as flustered as the first time.

“Whatever, it’s a stupid.” You mumble turning back towards the window because looking at him was becoming too much you– fingers twitching to touch him, your lips pouting just to kiss him.

You set your drink down on the coffee table, the buzz from before coming back when the alcohol breaks through the food you had on your way up here. The nerves in your stomach become a mess as you walk up to the thick glass. The game he was supposed to teach you was already in full swing below. The tight baseball uniforms have you imagining what Steve would’ve looked like iand the thought is enough to make the softness of your thighs meet.

Steve sets his glass down next to yours, licking his lips as he gets to take in the way your dress wraps around your curves. You can feel the heat of his stare on you and it makes you shiver, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You try to focus on the game and not the way he comes up behind you. He smells like whiskey and summer, the fruity notes from the champagne coming out in the breath that fans down your neck in a mixture of Steve.

“Speaking of rules.” The husk in his voice is back, and the tip of his nose nudges behind your ear. He can’t see the way it makes your eyes hit the back of your head, but he can hear the way it makes your breath catch as his lips brush that sensitive spot on your neck.

“Yeah, some teacher you are. The game, the-“ you stutter when his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing before they move down, long fingers spreading wide over your thighs. “The game’s already started.” You manage to breathe out, giving into him pulls you against him.

He’s already hard again, and he’s barely touched you. The feeling of your body, with only the thin material of your dress keeping his hands from what’s underneath, sends his brain into orbit, especially when he feels the slow grind of your hips searching for more.

“You actually gonna listen to me?” Steve asks with lips so close to your ear that it almost makes you whimper. All you can do is nod, and he relishes in the way your eyelids get heavy when he hums ‘hmm?’ to ask you again.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen.” You can’t find it yourself to care how you sound a little desperate.

One hand stays on the curve of your hip, while the tips of his fingers on the other trace over the goosebumps already blooming on the exposed skin of your thigh. They catch the bottom hem of your dress, dragging the soft material up with them. Wet lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, smiling against the curve of it when he feels the way you spread for him, silently granting him permission.

“So, the umpire is the guy crouched behind the hitter,” He whispers, as he keeps moving up at a pace so slow it almost makes you stomp your feet, tempted to throw a fit to make him touch you. “He keeps track of the pitches, the swings and misses. Three strikes, you’re always out.”

He reaches the lace edges of your panties, and it makes him twitch in his pants. How dare you?

“Fuck - baby.” He dips a finger underneath, tugging the material lightly before letting it snap back against your hip. “You wear these for me?”

“Maybe.” You smirk, arching your back so your ass rubs against him in a way that makes his grip on your hip turn bruising. He exhales a deep breath through his nose to try and regain control.

“Maybe?” He tsks while the hand under your dress gets bolder, the pads of his fingers brushing over the heat between your legs, groaning when he feels the way you’re already soaked through them. “This doesn’t feel like a maybe.”

“I’m missing the game because -“ You gasp when he dares to push them to the side, a thick middle finger swiping through your folds, moaning at how you feel like silk..

“Because?” He practically purrs as he circles your bundle of nerves with a pointed pressure, like he already knows just what to do to make you fall apart.

He feels even bigger pressing hard against your ass like this. Your hips roll to meet the motions of his finger, offering him a little relief when his hips meet yours at the same pace.

“You’re -you’re not teaching me.” Your jaw goes slack when another finger starts circling your entrance, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

“Well, you’re not looking.” He’s smug, especially when he dares to push the tip of his finger in just enough to stretch you out, earning a gasp.

The crack of the bat meeting the ball makes your eyes snap open. The loud cheer of the crowd is enough to make the ground shake underneath you. Steve uses the distraction as his opening to slide the first two knuckles of his finger inside you. Your hand comes down to wrap around his wrist, a small whine escaping you when he pushes it all the way in. He braces himself against the window when your hips start to roll, helping him work you open. Every movement of his hand brings you closer against him to meet in the best kind of friction.

“See, your eyes are closed, honey.” You can feel his grin when he nips at your jaw, the middle finger on your clit being replaced with the pad of his thumb when he has it join in stretching you more for him.

Opening your eyes is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, especially when he already has you feeling so full with just two of his fingers. They flutter open with every ounce of your strength you have left, and he hums in approval when he sees them again.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you clench around him and he’ll never forget it as he starts littering kisses along your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down again. “Now he didn’t get a home run, but the bases are loaded. Do you know what that means?”

The deep baritone in the way he’s talking to you makes it even easier for his fingers to keep up their pace, coating them in even more slick when it vibrates against your ear.

“No- oohhh,” Moaning when his thumb adds the kind of pressure that threatens to make your knees buckle. He grinds himself against you with a little more force, never this close to cumming in his pants since high school.

He grunts, his cool facade breaking when you meet his hips, circling slow when you feel him push between your ass cheeks again.

“It’s when the hitting team has a member - god, baby, you feel that? So fucking wet.” He pauses so he can hear the mess you're making of his hand.

“There’s a player on every base, so if he can hit it far enough and they can all make it to home base, they’ll gain the lead - You’re so damn tight.” Steve doesn’t know if he can even do what he’s asking of you anymore, too lost in the feeling of the velvet of your walls wrapped around his fingers and what it’s going to feel like when he finally gets to be inside of you.

All you do is nod, the coil in your stomach tightening in a way you’ve never felt before. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and the muscles tense as he keeps working you to the edge. The thrust of his hips against you becomes shameless as he chases his own end.

Another loud crack of a bat catches your attention, you can barely see the baseball as it soars far over the field. Bouncing off of the back wall when no one catches it, the players on their respective bases start making a run for it, making the crowd go wild.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty?” He asks leaving open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin while his fingers curl, the tips of them hitting the spot that makes you see white. Your eyes catch the silver around your neck in the reflection of the window and it's enough to make you give in.

“Ohmygod, Steve - fuck, yes, yes, daddy, yes.”

He doesn’t know if it’s how your voice raises a pitch when you call him daddy or if it’s the way you reach behind him shamelessly trying to work him through his jeans, but it’s enough for his own body to go rigid. He moans loud enough to drown out the crowd, and you feel the warmth of his release under your palm. Your own washes over you hard enough to make your legs shake. You clench around his fingers that struggle to keep up their pace, but still relentless in their mission to keep you falling apart for him. You give him another squeeze through his pants and it makes him whine overstimulated against your neck.

The sound of the sports broadcasters vibrates from the speakers of the TV, signaling the switching of teams with the Cubs in the lead for the first inning. When Steve can finally see straight, the realization of what just happened makes his cheeks tinge the darkest shade of red. You made him cum his fucking pants. The day of touching and teasing took just as much of a toll on him as it did you. Your walls still flutter with every twitch of his fingers still buried inside of your heat, and he swears his dick threatens to get hard again.

He’s gentle when he pulls himself out of you, pressing soft kisses with sweet words against your cheek when you whimper a little at the feeling of being empty again.

“How’s my tough girl?” He whispers nose nudging your cheek as he puts your underwear back the way he found it, tugging down the bottom of your dress before turning you around to finally face him.

Your body still buzzes like a live wire, no one making you cum that hard from just their fingers before. The men your age always want to move so quickly. Steve’s eyes are still glazed over with a post orgasm glow, cheeks flushed, hair mused and all you wanted to do was kiss him.

“Feeling like an expert in baseball.” You giggle, and it makes him throw his head back giving you one of those deep bellied laughs you love so much.

You don’t wait anymore, pushing up on your toes - your lips meet his in an explosion of things you want to say but can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t hesitate to meet with the same eagerness, pushing you up against the window with a big hand coming up to your cheek, his thumb coaxing you open with a pull on your chin.

That feeling stayed with you the rest of the day, the two of you attempting to watch the game in between kisses cuddled on the couch and teaching of rules that you claimed were stupid just to get him to scoff. It swelled in your chest the whole car ride home, your fingers fiddling with the stone dangling from your neck and his hand finding a home on the top of your thigh.

You almost let it spill when he walked you to your door, kissing you stupid in your narrow hallway despite the sticky thick humidity. He watches the way you silently battle with the urge to invite him in, and despite everything inside of him wanting to just get lost in you for the rest of the night, he couldn’t have you like that once and leave. So he keeps kissing you by your door until sweat drips from your pores and your dress gets rucked up to your hips again. Promising you his time when he gets back, eyes gleaming with sincerity with his forehead against yours.

Yeah, you were in love with Steve Harrington.

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beta’d by @chechelia thank you ily ♥️

dividers by @chechelia

🌇 -> chapter ten

#my writing #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve x you #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington series #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x fem!reader #older!steve #older!steve harrington #Spotify

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tibbythetiger · 6 months

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Hello friendsssss! We have an official tag on AO3, we’ve all grown so much in just a few days. Amazing work all around!

I’m just dishing out some general HCs today! Hopefully, I can actually get the time to turn my main DreamTheory meeting as coworkers at Sparky’s into a real fic soon!

Both of them enjoy their height difference greatly. Mike usually hates feeling smaller or shorter than people, but he’s never met someone as genuine and nice as Ness so it doesn’t bother him, and makes him feel kinda safe. Ness just loves his pocket-sized boyfriend.

I know someone else has already said this, but Ness with freckles!!!! Ness with freckles is so very important to me. I think they’re super light during most of the winter, but once it gets warmer and the sun comes out they’re fairly noticeable. Mike likes to kiss each one he can find, it always makes Ness laugh.

I know we all agree that Ness is Conspiracy Boyfriend, and I agree! I think he particularly loves those paranormal ghost-hunting shows that were super popular back in 00’s, and he’s a HUGE Unsolved Mysteries fan. When he’s looking to get the same thrill but looking for more fictional media, he loves the Twilight Zone.

Mike makes a mean grilled cheese and tomato soup, this is in part because it’s Abby’s favorite food and he decided if he had to make anything really well it would be this. Ness actually doesn’t like grilled cheese, but Abby talked it up so much he gave it a try and he ended up really liking it. It is one of Mike’s proudest moments.

I think Ness is really good with kids, he seems to me the type that was the oldest cousin at parties. (This is just projection), so he’s used to having younger kids following him around and having to keep them entertained. While he’s used to it, he’s really genuine and loves doing it. He’s always overjoyed to hang out with Abby, and she adores him because of it.

Ness and Mike cannot draw to save their lives! They are horrible at it, Abby likes to hold “drawing classes” where she tries to show them how she makes her masterpieces. Ness always tries hard, but it’s just not his strong suit.

They are the couple that slow dances in the kitchen or living room. Mike is always reluctant about it, he’s fairly paranoid at romantic gestures, and he’s always scared someone will see them, but he always enjoys it when Ness convinces him it’s okay. Abby thinks it’s the most magical thing, so she draws the two of them as princes when they dance during a Disney movie night.

Ness absolutely tells Mike and Abby stories to help them sleep. They both think he has the most soothing voice, Ness just loves being able to help them, sometimes he’ll even sing to them, but he’s still really shy about it.

I think Ness really loves listening to musical soundtracks, but he’s also a pop girly through and through, like, he loves Kelly Clarkson, Paris Hilton, and Brittany Spears. Meanwhile, Mike doesn’t listen to music super often, he usually lets Abby or Ness pick. Otherwise, I feel like he’s really into grunge or early rock. He listens to Nirvana sure, but also Radio Head. (I also think he’s a very big Weezer fan)

I think Mike is a big writer, he started journaling to help him take note of his dreams/memories of Garrett, then really leaned into it once his parents were out of the picture since he didn’t really have anyone else to turn to to vent. Sometimes he can be a little poetic, and he’ll write lil notes to Ness and leave them in his apron or pockets for him to find later.

Ness thinks this is simply the cutest thing he’s ever seen actually, and attempts to do the same thing. He’s a little cheesier, and are usually filled with lil hearts and things doodled around them, but he sticks them on the mirror or on Mike’s alarm clock. Mike saves everyone he finds and slowly they start to cover the walls in his bedroom.

The three of them cannot have board game nights. They are all waaaay too competitive, and the last time they played Uno and Ness won, Mike pouted so much and Abby locked herself in her room. They settle for movie nights or puzzles when they’re doing things the three of them.

When Abby first starts dabbling in painting her nails, she practices on Ness and Mike. Eventually Ness and Abby usually just have matching nails, Ness doesn’t let the looks he gets bother him any.

Abby absolutely knows they’re dating, Mike tries not to keep secrets from her, especially after the debacle of Freddy’s, and what happened with the Aunt. She’s too young, so she doesn’t get why people are weird about it, but she understands enough that she can’t tell anyone that Mike and Ness are dating. When she does talk about them, most people assume Ness is a girl, just because of his name. Abby just stops correcting people, the only person outside of them who knows is Abby’s therapist(?), but she supports Mike so it’s not really an issue.

Ness loves stealing Mike’s sweaters and coats, they’re so much bulkier than the ones that Ness buys himself, so they’re so comfortable. In the winter, he’ll steal them and wear them to work or around the house. Mike grumbles and pretends he cares, but he thinks Ness looks cute in them.

Ness has the worst road rage, Mike is both horribly amused and terrified of this when it occurs. Ness always apologizes afterward usually followed up by an “If people could just learn how to drive, I swear to GOD”

Mike and Abby will go into Sparky’s when Ness is working just to get desert and to see him. Most of the employees at Sparky’s know there’s something going on between Ness and Mike, but they all let it remain unspoken. It seems like everyone is taking good care of each other, so no one decides to interfere.

Well, that’s all I have for now! I’m really loving seeing everything everyone is putting out, and getting to read everyone’s work and see their art is amazing!

#mike schmidt #mike x ness #ness the waiter #securitywaiter #dreamtheory #fnaf ness

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xxkazuna14 · 3 months

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"Soulmate." a short V x Uzi written scenario Eat up, my dear Vuzi enthusiast followers :3

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Peeping her head through the small gap between the door and the wall of purple-haired worker drone's room, a certain female disassembly drone looks up at the elevated bed which Uzi laid on, scrolling on her phone with a facial expression of boredom — not noticing V staring at her.

Normally, V wasn't one to showcase her vulnerability with anyone. She'd always just push away her feelings and be more of the type to give open arms to any other drone she cared for who showed her their own vulnerability.

You'd have to gain a whole different level of V's trust to get to see even the slightest glimpse of any fear in her eyes.

Uzi was the one able to fulfill that so far.

Even if V was also somewhat close with N, her core found itself racing for Uzi and Uzi only.

With a taut and soft tone, V spoke.

"Hey, 'Zi?"

Surely enough, the purple-haired goth girl turned her head to the source of V's voice.

"Yeah?"

She raised a digital purple 'brow', as V walked in her room dimly lit by purple LED lights.

"You busy on something?"

Tilting her head to the side a little, V awaits an answer.

"Nah. Not at all, what's up?"

"Just wondering if you'd care enough to spare a hug."

Gears turned inside of Uzi's mind, this was certainly one shocking surprise. Serial Designation V? A little sociopathic, insane, and psychotic mass murderer, going soft?

Well you can't really not expect that from your own crazy girlfriend, but V's never the type to ask for something like that. As a matter of fact; V's never asked for anything outside of requesting for basic necessities.

"Uh, sure. I mean, I don't mind giving my own literal girlfriend something that I give regularly after all."

She joked a bit, snickering slightly.

"But first of all, are you okay?"

V didn't expect Uzi to catch on so quickly. But of course, being Uzi's girlfriend meant that she'd be able to know everything about you in probably under a day.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

"You don't ask for this kind of stuff, well at least, not usually."

V glanced to her side, sighing in defeat.

"I just really need one right now."

Uzi found this as a fun opportunity to do a bit of taunting, as she smirked a little.

"Be a little more specific? What exactly do you need right now?"

"Don't make me take it back, Uzi."

The purple-headed shorty chuckled in response.

"Alright, alright."

She climbed down from her bed, leaving her phone on the desk as she approached V.

"The big murder puppy wants a hug, huh?"

Uzi — despite being one foot shorter than V — eventually wrapped her arms around the waist of her girlfriend.

"Happy?"

V happily obliged to hug back, resting her head on Uzi's.

"Hm. Maybe."

She bluntly responded, as they remained to embrace like that for a while.

"Didn't have such a great night, did ya?"

"No."

"Ah, no wonder."

Casual talk, that was always how they conversed with each other. They didn't do pet names, and didn't act much verbally affectionate towards each other. After all, neither of them were any experts with relationships. But still, they clearly loved each other a lot — despite how strangely informal their relationship is, and how odd it was that they lacked intimate moments.

"You don't care that I'm being weak right now, do you? No judgment, or anything?"

"None."

"Not even... annoyance or irritation?"

"Nuh uh. And plus, I don't think you're being weak, V. You're just expressing your emotions, why would I ever ostracize you for that?"

"..."

V looked away, pondering as she grew lost in her thoughts.

The only other female drone who she would describe as "close" to her, was J. And J wasn't that much nice — even to her. J was also a workaholic, she didn't have time to develop close relationships with her coworkers or even bother to care about their feelings.

N was fine, he was kind, but a little too kind. He can also be annoying at some times, and can sugarcoat things way too much every now and then. He certainly cares a lot about V's feelings, but he's too nice for her.

But Uzi?

Uzi was just perfect.

They had so much similarities, both of them having trouble with what relationships are like. Uzi understood what it would be like to be in V's shoes, because like V — even if she's surrounded by the people who somewhat care for her — she's only ever felt truly lonely.

Uzi's got her father, but her father's always occupied or busying himself way too much. Thad's there too, but again, Uzi just doesn't like how Thad's personality contrasts with her own so much.

It was like Uzi was meant for her.

"Eh, I just needed to make sure you didn't criticize me for having feelings, or won't pry in so much about it."

V shrugged ever so lightly.

"V, you know I wouldn't do or say anything that I am well aware you won't exactly be fond of. Besides, if I wanted to know what you would dislike when wanting to be comforted, I would know. 'Cause we're not so different, you and I."

"Yeah, I guess."

V chuckled.

"It's like having a soulmate who'll know exactly what you won't or will dislike."

"Is that not what I'm like?"

Uzi joked, raising a 'brow'.

"Nope, you're not like that at all."

"'Cause that's exactly what you are."

#murder drones #serial designation v #uzi doorman #vuzi

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idolatrybarbie · 7 months

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lust for a vampire

for my fifty follower celebration! @heareball asked: max phillips and prompt no. nine— "you look so pretty like this." title from the song. i am so sorry this ended up being like, gross. and long. thanks to @wannab-urs for the reassurance and beta. if you recognize the horror movies referenced in this fic i love you.

rating & word count: 4k words | explicit

warnings: very briefly mentioned drug use, sexually explicit content, more plot than porn, dubious consent question mark, supernatural stalking, blood and its consumption, pussy slapping (like once), orgasm denial, spit play ???, background sex work/stripping, physical altercation (not with max), vaginal fingering, pet names (sweet thing, honey, sweetheart), i changed how vampires work from bsb because my writing, my rules.

It’s late now. Another thirty minutes and you get to flick the switch to the overhead lights—on and off, on and off again. Closing time. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. Then there’s bar cleanup, a little sweeping, some heavy mopping. Assuring that no one’s upchucked on the stone bust of sexy Dracula out front, or making one of your coworkers clean it up if they have.

You can’t say that this is exactly what you dreamed of doing for the rest of your life: living in the slimy suburbs of a tourist trap border city, doubling as a bartender and host at a vampire-themed titty bar. Whatever. You suppose there are worse things. The patrons are usually so distracted by the girls that are actually naked that they leave you alone. The most you get is a grunted drink order, sometimes with an accompanying snort if the man ordering has just spent a little time in a bathroom stall with a bump of Big C.

Usually. Tonight, there’s a man at the corner of the bar who seems to be paying you attention in particular. He’s eyeing you more than Kali, the dancer spinning half nude on the main stage pole as crimson-coloured corn syrup slides down her body in waves.

You noticed him right away. He looks nothing like your regulars; usually sex and death goth chicks and their annoying boyfriends, or black metal listeners who could use a good shower…or three. No, the man at the bar is unlike anyone you’ve ever seen walk in here before. A tailored suit jacket strains slightly against the breadth of his shoulders, waistcoat unbuttoned as he sits sipping at his third whiskey and coke. His hair is slicked yet stylishly tousled. The glint in his eye tells you that he knows he looks good. Cocky, then.

Mercy saunters up to him with a sway in her hips, skin as pale as the moon outside. She bleaches her hair to white twice a month, keeping it shorter to handle the damage. The woman is a vampire in the flesh if you’ve ever seen one, clad in crimson lace as she lays a hand of finely manicured claws on his shoulder.

Mercy leans into him, whispering something softly into his ear. At first, you can’t gauge his reaction, watching the exchange out of the corner of your eye. You’re torn between him shaking his head and telling her to get lost, or happily obliging to let her take him for a private show.

He seems to be considering it, too, eventually nodding with a bright smile. You can’t look at his mouth as he does, teeth too bright for the low light. It looks like they almost glow. He and Mercy disappear to the back, finding one of the empty private rooms to take their business. You finish polishing another rack of glasses before a customer flags you down for a refill.

You don’t see the man when you announce last call, or again before you’re locking the doors behind the last couple of stragglers. The girls are in the back already, taking off their makeup and packing up to head home. You give the bar another good wipe down as Martin and Phil take the dirty glasses to the back. When the bar is adequate in its cleanliness, you get started on spraying down the tables. Louis is mopping both stages, the sudsy water of the industrial pale turning black from the sweat, spit, and fake blood.

Closing at three o’clock, the lot of you get out at almost four-thirty in the morning. The light of dawn hasn’t quite hit the horizon, the moon missing from the sky behind clouds of city smog. The streets are truly dark. You navigate through the alley behind the club, passing a twin pair of Dumpsters.

It must have rained while you were inside, the sidewalk wet with remnants of it. Puddles pool in the corners of the road. If you were anyone else, if you were anywhere else, this scene might be a little concerning. This is the part where the killer emerges, silent but deadly behind the wisp of a girl as she walks the streets alone. The situation isn’t exactly safe, per say. Definitely not ideal. It isn’t your fault that the closest lot with free parking is four blocks away.

You are no wisp, and this is no monster movie. This is a Saturday night like any other.

Or, well, it’s supposed to be. Turning another corner, you come upon Mercy standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Still clad in her outfit from the club, she notices you almost immediately. You stop yourself, processing what it is you’re looking at. Darkness stains half of her silky lingerie, and in this lighting you can’t tell if it’s real or fake.

Mercy sways where she stands, eyes narrowing the slightest before her face softens, an agreeable smile pulling at her lips. Her six inch heels clop against the concrete as she closes the short distance between the two of you.

“Mercy?” you ask. “What are you doing out here?”

“Hey baby,” she drawls.

“Is everything okay?”

“Much better now,” Mercy smiles. Her teeth are stained red. All of this blood…is it hers?

“What happened? Did someone do something to you?”

Your pulse is racing as you dart your eyes around the street. It remains empty spare you and her, your eyes telling you that the coast is clear. Still, the situation feels off. Mercy is still smiling as your stomach roils in your gut. When she sways a little too far to the right, you grab ahold of her arm, looping it around your shoulder.

“We’ll get you back to my car, okay?” you ask.

Mercy takes a couple of steps with you before the axis of the world changes. No, wait. Only the axis of you. The dancer has you pressed to the hard, clumpy brick of a building. Her arm sits over your neck, putting pressure on your windpipe. You claw at her arm, scratching at the milky white of her skin. It’s no use. Mercy is putting those self-defense classes to good use trying to choke you out right now.

She moves in closer to your face, nosing at your jaw down to the side of your neck.

“Smells so good. I just need…a little bit,” Mercy breathes into your ear.

“No,” is the only word you can press past your lips.

“It’ll only hurt a little, honey,” she continues, voice dripping with sweetness. It’s the one she uses with clients, a tone that’s pulled thousands of dollars of cash from the eager wallets of horny bastards. “Then, it’s going to feel so, so good.”

As your vision speckles, Mercy licks a long, wet stripe along the skin of your neck. Something about the action sets you off; the pre-emptive finality of it activates your survival instincts as you bring a knee up to her gut. The blow winds her. Mercy pushes herself off of you to clutch at her stomach, a frustrated growl ripping itself from her throat.

“That wasn’t very nice, bitch,” she mutters.

You take off down the street, praying to whatever god that Mercy’s newfound kink for street violence hasn’t instilled in her the ability to sprint in Pleasers. You’re so close now; the lot where your Chevy sedan has been parked and baking since dinnertime is finally in sight. Air isn’t quite reaching your lungs as fast as you need it, the world around you hazey as you continue to run to your car.

Blinking, the parking lot is gone when you open your eyes again. Someone’s dropped a black curtain in front of you—or so you think. When you collide chest-first with a man on the sidewalk, you recontextualize. You were staring at the shoulder of his suit jacket.

Another moment passes as you realize just who the man is. Three-piece, from the club. The man who sat at the bar making eyes at you all night long. Tonight must be a cosmic punishment.

“Hey, whoa there.” He holds his hands out, almost in surrender. Concern blankets his features as he looks you over. “Everything alright?”

“Look, I really don’t have time—”

You stop yourself, sucking in frantic gasps of air. Grabbing onto the nearest wall, you brace yourself as you cough and choke on oxygen. The stranger watches you, then glances down the street the way you came. It seems his critical thinking skills have kicked in.

“Is someone following you?” he asks.

“My crazy fucking coworker…” you start, “has taken up casual street assault.”

“Let’s get you out of here, alright? Is your car nearby?”

You nod, pushing yourself up and off the wall. He guides you across the street to your car, standing with you as you sift through your bag for the keys. When you find them, you turn to the man.

“Well, thanks.”

“Not a problem at all,” he says. Slowly, he turns to walk away. Then you remember how many drinks you served him earlier.

“Hey, do you want a ride home?” Bad idea. Bad idea.

The man turns around and faces you once again. “I’m alright,” he says.

Three whiskey and cokes, a couple of shots, and whatever might have gone out to his private room that you hadn’t been able to keep track of.

“It’s not a hassle,” you shrug.

This is better. You would rather drive to a stranger’s house at dawn and drop him off than have him pass out somewhere in the street—or worse, let him try to drive home and end up hurting someone.

You tell him your name. He says his name is Max. The two of you get into your car. Buckling your seatbelt, you ask, “Maxwell? Or Maximillion?”

“Just Max.”

You hum. “Straight to the point.”

“I try to be.”

The car starts with minimal fanfare and you pull out of the parking lot. You scan the streets for any sign of Mercy, but come up empty in your search. You’re too tired to think about her or the odd encounter anymore.

“So what draws someone like you to a place like that?” you ask, referring to the club.

“Someone like me?” Max asks.

“Come on, look at you. The suit? You look like you’re fresh off the trading floor.”

“Not quite. Mergers and acquisitions,” he says.

“Point still stands,” you say. “What brings you to a gothic striptease?”

Max shrugs beside you. “Reminds me of college, I guess.”

You can’t help the laugh that falls from your mouth. The strange answer does nothing to satisfy your lingering curiosity, but you focus back on the road. Max tells you when to turn and which streets to take, leading you out of town. Twenty minutes into your drive, you realize he’s guiding you past the university and over the connecting bridge.

“Lewiston?” you ask, glancing at him. Max is already staring at you, eyes softening when they meet yours.

“It’s quaint,” he says.

And he’s right. When you pull into the driveway of his house, you momentarily wonder if you’ve arrived at the wrong address. Max doesn’t share the hesitance, getting out of the car and rounding the front to meet you at the driver’s side window. You roll it down, letting him duck his head in the slightest bit.

Max leans his forearms against the opening in the door. “Thanks for the ride,” he says. And then he’s offering to let you come inside, grab a coffee before you hit the road again.

You want to say no—should, considering how late (early?) it is. Glancing at the clock on your dashboard, you look up at Max to politely decline, but can’t summon the words. There’s something about his eyes, dark and wondrous as they stare. He doesn’t blink, waiting on your answer.

“A coffee couldn’t hurt,” you say. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

Max steps away from the door to let you get out. It closes with a solid thud, and then he’s leading you up to the front steps of his home. He doesn’t reach for any keys, simply turning the knob and pushing the door open. You barely make note of this, too distracted by his presence and the walls of his front hallway.

Everything in here seems perfect, the cutesy makings of a home somewhere in the countryside. And yet that’s what makes it totally out of place; the floral wallpaper, the simple wooden frames holding photos of faces you can’t quite parse in the dark. Maybe you’re letting outdated stereotypes get the better of you, but someone like Max would usually be living in a sleek, stainless steel cavern—not Little House on the Prairie.

Like he can read your mind, he says, “This isn’t my usual decor. It was my grandmother’s house.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Sorry for your loss.”

Max shakes his head, giving you a dismissive wave as he turns left and mills about a small yellow kitchen. “She was old. It happens. I’m in town to settle up some things, see what ends up happening to this place.”

“So you aren’t from around here,” you say.

Back turned to you, the laugh he lets out shakes his broad shoulders the slightest bit. “You caught me,” Max says.

“Between condolences and meetings with lawyers, you find solace watching naked women cover themselves in blood?”

He’s facing you again. The coffee has started to brew, steam rising from the machine as the warm smell of arabica greets your nose.

“Something like that,” he says. “What about you? The bartending life all that they say it is?”

“It’s alright.” You lean in the doorway, never quite stepping into the kitchen. “Not as terrible as other places.”

“But you aren’t fulfilled,” Max says for you.

“Things could be worse.”

“Hm,” is all he gives you.

Max gets two mugs out of his grandmother’s cupboards, filling them both when the coffee is done a few silent minutes later. He closes the distance between the counter and where you stand to hand one to you. Then he sits at the short table wedged in against the wall. The implication to sit down with him settles over you, but Max doesn’t say anything.

He’s waiting because he knows that you will. Deep down, you know it too.

When you cross over the threshold into the room, the world shifts. Only slightly, barely noticeable with the porcelain burning in your palm. You take the seat across from Max and set the coffee down.

“How is it?” he asks, nodding at it.

“Good,” you say. Neither of you have taken a sip of the stuff.

Max’s hand is on the table, resting on a doily next to his own mug. He asks, “What’s got a woman like you walking the streets at night all alone?”

“Free parking,” you say.

His lip twitches. “That all?”

“Fourteen dollars a night adds up when you work six times a week.”

“No, I mean,” Max says, “that can’t be it.”

His hand is closer to your own now. You aren’t sure when it moved. The proximity of his skin to yours sets your pulse racing again; instinct kicking in once more.

“Small town, lots of tourists. People from all over the world in and out of there all the time. You’re sure to come across some scary characters.”

“When you’re the one plying ‘em with alcohol, it’s a little different. Don’t wanna bite the hand that feeds,” you say. “I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” Max agrees. He uses his pointer finger to draw a line along the length of your thumb. His touch is ice cold. The contact makes you shiver.

“I don’t scare easy,” you continue, heart in your throat now.

“Is that right?” he asks.

You can’t tell what he means by that. You move to grab the mug before you, finally taking a sip to avoid answering the question. The brew is acrid. This close to your nose, it smells like lemons and bleach. Frowning into the mug, you look up at Max again. His chair sits empty.

Your brain can’t catch up with your eyes. Suddenly, something is pressing into your back, and for the second time tonight you find yourself pinned to an unfamiliar wall. Max is gentler than Mercy, a single hand at your shoulder to press you against the peeling paint behind you.

You open your mouth to say something, anything at all. Please don’t kill me. The coffee’s fine, I swear.

“Aw, don’t be scared,” he says, low and close to your ear. The words rumble in his chest, something like a purr against your ribcage.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whisper.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Max says. “You look so pretty like this.”

“What do you want?”

“What do you want?” he asks, turning the question around. “I’ve watched you… I know you, sweetheart. This isn’t the life you want, is it? Certainly not the life you deserve.”

Despite yourself, you start to lean a little into his body; aching cold against your broiling warmth. Your neck and forehead are damp with sweat.

“I can give you all you’ve ever wanted,” Max says. “Remake you and your life. Never grow old. Never die.”

It’s fun to be a vampire. Yeah, you’ve seen that nineties movie too.

All night, you’ve been missing the forest for the trees. Mercy and her frantic, violent behaviour; the stains that soaked her lingerie. Max sidling up to the bar again, out of place and yet perfectly suited to the grimey, bleeding environment.

“Max…” you breathe.

“All you have to do is say yes,” he says.

This man is overwhelming, breathing down your neck and nosing along your jaw. He’s not pinning you to the wall anymore. You’ve elected to stay here. Thoughts are hard to manage, everything covered in a thick fog. His presence is intoxicating, and you have a feeling that’s on purpose.

All girls don’t want bad boys, and yet you feel yourself caving. An answer sits on the tip of your tongue. If only you could spit out the goddamn words…

“Please,” you say.

“And she’s polite with it too. Sweet thing.” Max’s cool thumb drags across your cheek. “What do you need?”

“Anything. Everything, please.”

God, this is pathetic. In your right mind this scene would make you sick, but at this moment you can’t help it. You are a wound all over, easing into Max’s soothing touch. He can fix this—fix you, needy and wanting in this lovely little home. It’s all you want; all you’ve ever wanted.

Max kisses your neck once, twice before he pulls away. His right hand wraps around your ribs to support you, the other trailing up and over your stomach, your sternum. He splays his fingers across your clavicle, feeling the heat of your skin. His touch is bleak, sapping the warmth from your body.

You can’t tell if it’s his voice or your own echoing in your ears. What draws someone like you to a place like this? But what kind of place is this exactly?

Max shreds the front of your shirt, the sparkly white logo of the strip club torn in two as the fabric hangs limply off your body. With no bra underneath, he has free access to fondle your breast. His cold hand over your heart makes you shiver.

Kissing down your chest, he still holds your side, even as he crouches in front of you. Through bleary eyes, you watch as Max kisses at either of your hips before making quick work of the button and zipper of your jeans. You pull at his hair, needing him up here. Truly, you need him everywhere; to consume you and warp you beyond identification. Go ahead and make you something new.

“Max, please,” you whine.

He licks a line from your stomach to the dip between your neck and collarbones, cold air catching at the saliva in the absence of his tongue. Then he’s face to face with you again, smiling. Max slides his hands into your pants and tuts lightly. You’re wet, and he can feel it. Embarassment floods you, making you squirm.

“Oh honey, relax. It’s only natural,” he says.

Max rubs at you over your panties, lightly grazing your clit through the fabric with each pass. It’s gentle. It isn’t what you need.

You grip his arm harshly. No matter what he is, it hurts. A little bit of something flashes in his eyes, coming and going too quickly. Something you need.

“Give me what I want,” you demand softly.

“This what you want, huh?” Max asks.

He shoves his fingers past the band of your panties, the pads of his fingers brushing hard against you. Two of them find your clit, circling over it deliciously. Still, this isn’t enough. You whimper with a shake of your head.

“Oh no, sweetheart. That’s not it,” Max says knowingly. He’s teasing and it’s killing you. “Want these, huh?”

As he asks, Max bares his teeth at you; long and intimidating, the enamel looks sharp and pointy. Seeing them has you canting your hips up into his hand.

“Bite me,” you gasp. “Bite me, bite me, please.”

His fingers on you move impossibly faster, hedging you towards the edge at a lightning pace. Heat spreads from between your thighs outwards, creeping up through your stomach, your arms, your fingertips. It’s a struggle to keep yourself upright against the wall.

Max returns his mouth to your neck, sucking and licking at your skin. You close your eyes and wait, expecting the heavy hammer of pain to fall on you soon, orgasm just out of reach. Instead, he tugs your underwear down a little further in your jeans, cupping you in his hand. He slaps your cunt once, drawing your attention back to him.

“Look,” Max says. “Pay attention now.”

Then he continues his ministrations, fingers on your clit again. You open your mouth to groan. It’s then that he bites you, catching you off guard. The pain is searing, so hot that it’s cold underneath your skin. You can feel the length of his fangs where they dig deep into flesh.

Blood rushes from the punctures immediately, trailing in a thick stream down your body. Max gulps as he drinks it down, hand still working you over. Your orgasm drowns you, an unforgiving wave. It hurts, stomach clenching at the sensations that wrack your body. There is no air left in your lungs, all of it punched out by the pain. He’s holding your head underwater.

What kind of place is this? A very, very bad one. Strawberry Shortcake’s den of iniquity. You’re bleeding out surrounded by dainty floral wallpaper and a man—monster—that’s going to eat you alive.

You slump between the wall and Max’s chest as he withdraws his teeth from you. Blood pumps out of your carotid artery in a steady pace, another gush with each beat of your heart. It pools on the white tile of the floor. Everything is red and slippery.

Max bites into the flesh of his wrist and brings it to your lips. With the little strength you have left, you grip his arm and hold it against your mouth. You drink what slowly flows from his veins. Max’s blood is cold against your tongue, going down like a shot of cheap tequila.

“There you go, sweetheart. That feel better, hm?” he asks.

When he’s sure you’ve swallowed, he tips your head back gingerly. His face over yours, Max purses his lips. He lets spit gather between them before pushing it out of his mouth, pulling yours open with his thumb to catch it. The saliva, mixed with your own blood, slides coolly against your tongue.

You’re dying, probably. Maybe you’re already dead. Doesn’t matter, really.

Max is here. He has remade you.

#pedrostories #max phillips #max phillips x reader #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips fanfiction #pedro pascal #50 followers

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joshlmbrt · 27 days

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coworkers to lovers w dalton <33 being his trainer at like a little coffee shop on campus and he barely catches anything you’re telling him bc he’s so heart eyes <333 he knows he’s in love when you stand up for him against a shitty customer bc “oh fuck shes kinda hot when shes all scary”

everyone - meet my new best friend (we are keeping dalton lambert alive). THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST BABE !!! this will be my first official lil blurb for dalton and i’m super excited. i hope you feel better soon ❤️‍🩹 w; some dude being rude to dalton but besides that - pure fluff!!

when dalton steps into the little coffee shop he has passed by on campus - his nose is being prodded by the sweet, yet bitter, smell of coffee, caramel, and a little cinnamon.

people have conversations at tables over an instrumental version of the smiths with paper and books spread out.

“dalton lambert?” his head swivels around and his eyes are met by a girl - two inches shorter than he was, curly hair, and a dark skin tone. her eyes were a piercing green.

“that’s me.” he says awkwardly, a thin lipped smile. she grins softly, sensing the nerves.

“i’m maya. you don’t have to be nervous or anything - you’re gonna be in good hands.” he only nods, blinking.

“sorry! sorry,” his eyes snap towards you, your shoulder bumping into maya’s, chest heaving out a loud huff. “my teacher, mr. daniels, had us stay back for whatever reason.”

maya snorts, motioning towards dalton. “you’re fine. but this is dalton, the guy you’re gonna be training,” your head turns and you give him a smile, nose scrunching slightly. his fingers tighten on the strap of his bag. “i gotta go though because i’m about to be late for class. can you clock me out?”

“yep! no worries!” you wave after maya, wishing her a nice day, before turning back to dalton. the smile on your face drops and so does his when he notice. “now, dalton. don’t get in my way - or we are gonna have a problem. got it?”

he gulps and nods hesitantly, hair brushing over his neck. “y…yeah. got it.”

you squint your eyes at him before busting out in a laugh, waving your hand dismissively. “sorry. i had to do that follow me!”

you turn and walk towards the door that leads behind the counter. dalton stands for a second, letting out a small breath before following behind you.

you go over everything there is to know behind the counter, explaining that once he’s there for a little longer, one of the coffee makers will teach him more about steaming milk, grounding coffee, and making little designs.

for now, he has the honors of taking people’s orders.

it was going well until nick had stepped in - dalton grips the counter slightly and his chin drops to his chest. he’d only been here a week and he can tell today, of all days, is going to be awful.

“could i get a caramel frappè?”

not a ‘hello, how are you? how was your day?’

dalton nods, pressing on the screen. “anything else?”

nicks eyes finally lower from the menu, a small smile spreading over his face - not the nice kind. “no way,” there’s a laugh that gets stuck in his throat. “dalton lambert, you would work in a café.”

dalton opens his mouth but your butting in - realizing this isn’t the first time he had an encounter with nick. “and what’s that supposed to mean?” your weight is shifted over onto one leg, hands on your hips as you tilt your head.

dalton’s head turns towards yours quickly, long lashes fluttering over his cheeks as he blinks, surprised you stepped in.

nick, seemingly caught off guard by how fast you slipped into the conversation, blinks at you, eyes flickering back and forth to you and the long haired boy who can’t look away from you. “i was just-”

“just what? wanting to make fun of someone who is actually wanting to make money instead of leeching off of their parents and friends?”

nick seems to shrink slightly at that, laughing a bit nervously when the two friends he had came in with gives him a questioning look.

“dalton here,” your hand lands on his shoulder and he stiffens slightly, heart speeding up. “wants to work hard for what he wants and you will not give him a hard time for that anymore, got it?” your brows lift, chin tilting down slightly with a stern look.

nick clears his throat, fixing the letterman jacket he had gotten from high school football. “let’s go, guys.” he turns, walking out of the café with red cheeks of embarrassment.

you pull your hand from dalton’s shoulder. “sorry for touching you if you don’t like being touched. and butting up. i could just tell you let him say stuff to you and you weren’t going to say anything.”

dalton’s lips upturn slightly, a small laugh leaving his throat. “you seem to know a little about me already and i’ve only been here a week.”

you smile, nose tilting up in the air slightly as you rock on your heels. “i pay attention to things i like, lambert. and you’re one of them.”

he’s left speechless when you walk away, head turning over your shoulder as you send him another smile that he wants to draw.

maybe he’s found another muse.

#cherry writes ✿#dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fluff #ty simpkins x reader

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illunicae · 1 month

Text

Another snippet from my current FNAF & ROTTMNT crossover fic: meeting April!

Listening to the various machines buzz, you pulled out your phone to check the time. You still had 45 minutes before you had to be into work. That’s plenty of time to get your shit together before you had to interact with your coworkers. However, the various news articles suddenly popping up on your feed while you were trying to scroll was not helping. It seemed with the anniversary coming up all the local news stations were set to revisit the town’s only mystery.

You groaned and turned off your phone. You’d settle for just staring out the window if someone hadn’t approached your table.

A feminine voice spoke up with a clearing of the throat. “Excuse me, are you (Y/n) (L/n), by chance?”

Glancing toward the woman who approached, you took in her appearance. Dark brown curly hair held back in twin buns, red rimmed glasses framed dark green eyes, blemish-free brown skin, and a smile that wavered just slightly at your small bout of silence. You tilted your head slightly, “Who’s asking?” You questioned. You didn’t have many friends, so it was rare for someone to ask for you by name.

“Oh, I’m April O’neil. Journalist for paper.” You were even more confused, yet slightly intrigued as you nodded for April to sit in the booth. “Thanks.” April smiled.

Before the conversation resumed, the barista set your order down in front of the you before turning to April. “Can I get you anything?” She asked.

“No thank you.” April declined with a polite wave and smile. The barista shrugged and moved on, but not without sharing a curious glance with you. You just picked up the mug and took a small sip of your drink. “So, Ms. (L/n)–”

“Please call me (Y/n), no one respects me enough to call me Ms. (L/n). That title belonged to my cousin.” You stated, bringing the warm drink away from your lips.

“Right, (Y/n). Well, I’m reaching out to you because I’ve got some questions.” April explained.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Questions about what?”

“Questions about the mystery surrounding this town. And the boys that went missing.”

Your grip on your mug tightened, though April didn’t notice. “Why?”

April grew a little nervous, “Because I’m doing a story on it. Why else?” Humming, you took another sip of your drink to hide your obvious distaste for the reporter sitting across the booth. April took a breath and leaned in as if to tell a secret. “Look, I believe something sinister is at play in this town and I think I could crack the case, solve the mystery. So if I could just ask you a few questions.” She explained.

You tipped the mug back as you drained the rest of your drink. You put the mug down a little harder than you intended. “I don’t know why you chose me out of all the persons sitting in this cafe, but I don’t have the answers you seek.”

“But–”

“Listen, O’neil, you seem like a nice woman, but I don’t know anything. That mystery is twenty years old. If you want a kickstarter for your career, find a different town with a different story.” You stood from the booth, checking your phone as you did so. “However, if this is where you must get your fix then ask anyone else in this cafe. I’m sure they’d love to answer your questions and gossip their theories, but I have to get to work, so goodbye.” After leaving a bill on the table to pay for your drink, you turned and began walking out of the cafe.

“Wait! Please!” April quickly shuffled out of the booth and raced after you. “It’s just a few questions and I’ll be out of your hair, I promise.” The bell jingled, signaling your departure as April ran to the door. You were a few strides down the sidewalk before April realized which way you had gone. “I don’t want anyone else’s answers or theories. I want yours.” April called. She sped-walked a few paces behind you. “I think you and I both know your’s are the only ones that matter.”

That made you pause. You turned to face April, who was a good head shorter than you. Your eyes were an ocean of different emotions as you stared at the persistent reporter before you.

“You asked for me specifically, by name, why?”

“Because you were friends with the Hamato boys, weren’t you?”

#my writing #work in progress #snippets #Rubatosis fic #rottmnt april #april o'neil #rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt x you #rottmnt x oc #human rottmnt #fnaf au #rottmnt fnaf crossover

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 2 years

Text

Getting Barreled

Wipeout - Chapter 5

Pairing: Surfer!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: I’m so sorry about the long gap between chapters, I really try not to do that, hopefully since it’s so long it makes up for it. Anyways any feedback is always appreciated! Reblogs and comments mean a lot, I always leave my ask box open too if you wanna talk anon or something! Love you guys so much, hope you enjoy xx

Warnings: Smut, fighting, angst

Summary: Turns out Tom doesn’t like watching your flirt either

Taglist

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

❀ ゜.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀

When Tom arrived at your house on Friday night he wasn’t prepared for how dressed up you’d be. You wore a snug little black dress he’d never seen before, it nearly brought him to his knees. He knew all eyes would be on you as soon as you got to the party, and he was right. As soon as you two stepped inside he noticed people starting to ogle you, he knew it happened whenever you two went out, but tonight he was hyper aware of it. Tonight you were actually going to flirt back with one of the people that ended up approaching you. Normally you were too busy with Tom and your other friends to even realize when someone was trying to hit on you.

Tom knew it wouldn’t bug him, at least in the sense of him feeling left out or insecure. This was a planned event after all, he’d know you were just doing it to prove a point, but he was there to make you feel better. So he was going to sit by himself, feeling awkward and bored in the corner while you had fun. The only situation he could imagine himself getting actually worked up about was if someone started being creepy or coming onto you a little too aggressively.

Admittedly Tom was starting to feel a bit awkward already because you seemed to know everyone at the party, and Tom hadn’t recognized anyone yet. It was isolating, even for someone as social as Tom. It just wasn’t his crowd, the only college students he usually hung out with were locals, people he’d grown up with. He was used to more laid back parties too, kickbacks or bonfires that were almost always held on the beach. Being crammed into a tiny house with no room to move with a bunch of couples getting hot and heavy was hardly his idea of a fun party. Tom was surprised by how comfortable you seemed considering you always told him you preferred the smaller kickbacks you attended with him and Grace.

“There they are,” you waved to Anya when you spotted her hanging out in the kitchen, you grabbed Tom’s arm to drag him over to where her and her girlfriend stood. Anya was your coworker, but Tom knew the two of you also went to school together. Tom had met her a few times in passing but never really talked to her, but in that moment he was just happy to see a familiar face, “Tom this is Anya’s girlfriend Rey, Rey this is my friend Tom.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tom shook her hand.

“Do you guys want something to drinK?” Anya asked.

“Definitely,” you nodded, “You want a beer or something Tom?”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m not gonna drink tonight.”

“No problem, I’ll be right back,” you followed Anya away to a crowded kitchen counter.

Tom watched as you two wiggled between people and attempted to grab some drinks. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. A tall, slim boy started talking to you while you were trying to find a drink you would like. It seemed like you knew him, and you started to blush as he spoke to you. Something he said made you start laughing before you and Anya came back to where Tom and Rey were waiting for you. The boy followed behind you and upon closer inspection Tom realized he had to be a few years older than you both, at least in his mid twenties.

“Here babe,” Anya handed Rey a setzler and wrapped her arm around the shorter girl, “This is Riley, he was the TA in our history of interiors class,” she explained, “Riley this is my girlfriend Rey, and (y/n)’s friend Tom.”

Riley nodded to both of them, “Nice to meet you both.”

“Yeah, you too,” Rey smiled back at him but Tom said nothing.

“So are you two students also?” he hummed.

Rey nodded, “Yeah, I’m in the fashion design program.”

“Two designers,” he chuckled, “That’s cute. What about you Tom?”

Tom pursed his lips, “I’m not in school.”

“Well academics aren’t for everyone,” he smiled and glanced down at you, “I certainly wish they weren’t for me.”

Tom fought the urge to roll his eyes while you smiled back at him, “Whatever, you took a TA job, and that does not pay well enough for anyone who doesn’t love school to do it.”

“I didn’t say I don’t love it, I just wish it wasn’t for me,” he chuckled, “I mean TA’s have a lot of responsibilities, and I’m not even allowed to flirt with the pretty girls in my class.”

Tom couldn’t believe you’d want to flirt with someone like Riley. For starters you were way out of his league, and he was obviously just some sort of stuck up academic. He was wearing a turtleneck to a party in the middle of summer, that alone should have been enough to deter you, but his last comment also seemed like a red flag to Tom. It made Tom wonder if you were actually into him, as more than just someone to flirt with for the night. Maybe while you were in class with him you’d developed a little crush, and the idea of that rubbed Tom the wrong way.

“We should play beer pong,” you suggested, a flirty smirk on your lips as you set a hand on RIley’s arm, “Tom’s not drinking so you could be my partner Riley.”

“That sounds lovely,” he agreed, “It looks like they're about to wrap up, we can take the winner.”

“Totally,” you giggled and squeezed his arm while he whisked you away to the beer pong table.

You smiled at Tom as you brushed past him, he just pursed his lips as he watched you two walk away.

“He seems like he’s quite a bit older than you guys,” he commented to Anya with a frown.

“What? He’s only like 23,” Anya laughed, “I think Rey and I are gonna try and play too, do you wanna head over there with us?”

He shook his head, “No, that’s alright, I’m fine here.”

Tom leaned back on one of the kitchen counters while he watched you and RIley flirt. A few people tried to talk to him but he brushed them all off, even if he weren’t there with a purpose he wasn’t in the mood to flirt. He had his eyes locked on you, Riley gave him bad vibes, and he was just waiting for him to do something weird or make you uncomfortable.

You didn’t seem to mind anything he was doing though. You smiled when he grabbed your waist and giggled when he started whispering in your ear. Tom was uncomfortable with it though, and he didn’t understand why you were okay with everything he was doing. It seemed so obvious to him that Riley was a creep. Everytime he moved closer to you or made you laugh it just fueled Tom’s anger. He had his hands clenched at his sides, his knuckles starting to turn white from how tight his grip was. If he made even one wrong move Tom was going to walk right over there and hit him.

Tom crossed his arms while he watched you cheer for Riley, congratulating him as he scored another point. Riley looked so smug about it, his eyes shamelessly wandered over your body every chance he got. It was making Tom sick, Riley was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, like he couldn’t care less about what kind of person you were or what sort of personality you had. Riley leaned in close to you and his hand dropped from your waist to your ass. That was the final straw for Tom, flirting was one thing, grabbing your ass was another.

He paced towards you two, his hands clenched at his sides again and his brows knit in frustration, “Okay, that’s enough,” he shoved Riley away from you and stepped in front of you, “Hands to yourself got it?”

Your eyes widened in shock as Riley tried to laugh it off, “Woah, hey, we’re just playing a game.”

“Yeah well if you touch her again I’m gonna break your fucking arm so just back off,” Tom threatened lowly, anger swirled in his chest. He had no problem starting a fight with some creep who thought he could get handsy with you, but luckily Riley backed off, “We’re going home,” Tom turned back to you and started pushing you towards the door.

You couldn’t do anything but gape at Tom while he ushered you out of the party. You had never seen him so angry, “What the hell Tom?!” you questioned as he threw open the front door.

“He was a fucking creep,” he seethed, ripping his keys out of his pocket as he stomped towards his Jeep.

“Creep?” you gaped again while you climbed into the middle seat, “We were just flirting Tom, it was totally normal.”

“That was not normal,” he scoffed.

“Yes it was, you know it was,” you were fighting a smirk while he started the car, “You just didn’t like feeling left out while I was flirting and having fun.”

“I am not jealous!” he snapped back at you, his cheeks flushing pink in an instant, “I just know when guys have bad intentions, and he obviously did.”

“He didn’t have bad intentions, he was flirting. It’s no different than how you were hitting on that girl at Adrien’s party,” you replied smugly.

“He grabbed your ass! And you obviously didn’t see how he was looking at you!”

“People check each other out when they’re flirting Tom,” you rolled your eyes, “Why don’t you just admit it made you uncomfortable? That was the whole point of doing this anyway.”

“Yeah I was uncomfortable with how much of a fucking creep he is!” he yelled back, glaring at the road in front of him, “There isn’t anything else to it (y.n). We're friends with benefits and that's it, you knew what you were getting into. It's not my fucking fault if you're catching feelings."

Anger started to bubble up inside you, just like it had the weekend before. He wouldn’t just admit that he was upset, even though that was the whole reason you two had gone out. You knew he wasn’t jealous, because of course he wasn’t. You wanted him to admit that it hurt him, the same way it had hurt when he did it to you. Instead he was trying to turn it around on you, and that made your blood boil.

"You are the last person on earth I would ever catch feelings for Tom. You're an immature, arrogant, self centered, prick. You don't have any ambitions or goals, and you don't do anything that doesn't give you some kind of immediate gratification. You're a good lay and that's about it, so don't ever start thinking I want something more than that with you because I don’t, and I won’t, ever,” you spat mean and spiteful words at him, determined not to be the one who went home hurt and crying again.

Instantly you recognized that you’d gone too far, and the way his face contorted confirmed that you had succeeded in hurting him. You regretted it right away, but instead of taking anything back you just sat in silence, waiting for him to respond.

Tom was angry, he gripped the steering wheel in front of him as tightly as he could. His chest puffed up as he tried to think of some sort of snarky reply but nothing came to him. He was a thousand times more hurt than he was angry and truthfully he didn’t know what to say. He’d always admired how driven and put together you were, envied it even. He didn’t like to show it or talk about it, but he was insecure about his own future. Of course he knew that he couldn’t just work at the surf shop and party forever, but he had no clue what he wanted to do with his life. It hurt to hear one of his best friends tell him that she also thought low of him because of it. Even worse was hearing that apparently he didn’t have much value to you beyond sex.

"Well I came out to do this stupid shit for you and it hasn't been gratifying in the least," his voice was low, sounding more tired than angry, "Actually it’s been pretty fucking miserable, but I did it to try and make you feel better because I know I fucked up. I know I’m not a great person but I try to do right by the people I care about, and you're one of those people. I wanted to make things better because you’re a lot more than just a good lay to me and I felt fucking awful for hurting you. I care about having you in my life and I care about our friendship, a lot, but if you think I’m just a selfish prick who’s only good for sex then fine. We can just be done, I’ll just leave you alone. That’s what you wanted in the first place right?”

Your face burned, you were embarrassed and ashamed and unable to speak. Silence fell between you once again as his words sank in. You felt nauseous.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized softly, “I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that, I-I just, I,” you stumbled over your words nervously, “You’re not just a good lay to me Tom, you’re my best friend, and there’s no excuse for me saying something like that to you.”

He glanced over at you, his expression softening when his eyes landed on yours, “(y/n)...”

“I just wanted you to admit that you were hurt, that I was right, and it felt like you were getting mad at me instead,” you admitted shamefully, “I didn’t want to go home crying and hurt again, so I tried to hurt you instead, and that was really shitty of me. I really appreciate that you wanted to do this and try to make me feel better. I’m sorry I’ve been snappy and mean, you’re a really good friend, even if I don’t deserve it.”

“You do deserve it,” he set his hand on your thigh, squeezing you closer to him to try and assure you it was okay, “And you’re not totally wrong either. I know I can be really selfish and I don’t have my life put together. I’ve always been kind of jealous that you’ve got it all figured out, I wish I could be more like you, I just don’t know what I want yet.”

“I wish I was more like you too. I mean sometimes I get so focused on school and my goals that I miss out on everything else, and I forget to do things that make me happy. That’s one of the reasons I like hanging out with you. You always make me have fun, and you remind me to live in the moment,” you blushed and looked down at your hands, “And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not having it figured out yet by the way. We’re still really young and plenty of people our age don’t know what they want yet. And I think it’s okay if you never figure that out either, just as long as you're happy Tom.”

“Well I’m almost always happy when I’m with you,” he cracked a smile, “But I’ll admit you were right, tonight really sucked. I still think he was a creep, but I didn’t like being there alone while you were off flirting. I’m sorry I did that to you."

“It’s alright, I was a way bigger jerk tonight,” your head fell on his shoulder.

“I get what you mean about it making you feel insecure too,” he bit his cheek before continuing, “It’s like why are you flirting with someone like ten leagues below you when I’m there and I’m only like one league below you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh because it was the most Tom way to confess to being insecure, “Don’t worry Tommy, you’re definitely better looking, and you’re way more my type.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes as you rested on his shoulder, hopeful that you two would be able to put this all behind you and get back to business as usual. Fighting with your best friend was exhausting.

It was quiet, and you were both calm, but Tom’s mind was still running. There was still one more thing he wanted to get off his chest. Something about seeing you with another man had scared him, it made him feel something he’d never felt before.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we should try being exclusive,” he waited for you to react. You sat up, but you were too surprised to say anything back to him, “Like only sleeping with each other. That way we can keep having fun but neither of us have to be insecure or anything,” his tongue darted over his lips nervously, “Plus a lot of guys are creeps, and I don’t want you to sleep with some dickhead who starts stalking you or something. I mean I want you to fall in love and all that, but until you find someone you actually want to date, I could be your exclusive booty call.”

“Exclusive booty call,” you laughed again, “I don’t know Tom. Could you really commit to that? I mean you’re going to Hawaii in a week…”

He nodded, “Honestly it’s been a while since I’ve slept with anyone else.”

“Really?” you raised a brow suspiciously.

He nodded again, a light blush flushing over his cheeks, “Yeah, I just haven’t really been interested. I mean I know it’ll be better with you,” he shrugged, “So I’d rather just sleep with you.”

“Well honestly I haven’t slept with anyone else in a while either,” you confessed.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He chuckled, “I guess we’ve kind of been doing that for a while then.”

“I guess so,” you smiled and laid on his shoulder again.

“I think it’ll work just fine then,” he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice Tommy,” you agreed.

“Alright.”

You both wore a smile for the remainder of the drive. It felt good to have everything out on the table, to really be back to normal. You stayed curled up against Tom and he kept his hand on you while you drove. The small touch was nice, but you were craving more. The flurry of emotions you’d experienced that night had set all your nerves ablaze in a way you knew only really had one cure. It didn’t help that your mind kept flickering back to the way Tom had yelled at Riley. He’d been so quick to jump to your defense, and the way he’d looked while he did it was nearly criminal. He looked so strong and imposing, it made you weak at the knees.

“Tommy?” you bit your cheek as he pulled into the driveway.

“I’m not gonna carry you in Flower,” he hummed and peaked over at you, “I don’t care how tired you are.”

“That’s not what I was gonna say,” you laughed lightly, “Actually I was gonna tell you that I’m not really that tired yet…”

“Yeah, it’s still pretty early, I figured we could throw on a movie or something,” he smiled innocently back at you.

He was playing dumb, you knew he was. Usually you initiated things with actions and body language rather than your words, so when you did hint at it verbally he liked to draw it out. He’d tried to get you to say the most explicit things he could, acting like he didn’t understand until you’d stated what you wanted outright. It wasn’t like you were embarrassed to say it outloud or talk about it, but when he played games like that it became a matter of pride. Horny or not you weren’t going to just give in.

“Yeah, or we could do something else,” you unbuckled yourself and him before bringing one of his hands to your waist.

“Sure, we’ve got some board games,” he sunk his fingers into the fabric of your soft dress as he continued to play dumb, “Some kind of trivia thing, I’m sure you’d be good at it.”

You looped a single finger around his necklace and dragged him towards you, stopping when your lips were just a hair apart, “How about something more physical? I’ve got a lot of energy.”

“Twister?” he suggested, “I don’t think we have that Flower.”

“Tom,” your eyes narrowed to a soft glare, “You know what I’m talking about.”

“How could I know something you didn’t tell me?” he cocked his head and knit his brows.

He was a good actor, but you knew him too well.

“Stop playing dumb,” you ordered, “I’m not gonna say it.”

“I’m not playing dumb,” his facade started to crack, you could see the corners of his lips threatening to tug up into a smile, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Tom,” you huffed, “Come on.”

“Just say it, so I know what you want,” he moved his free hand to your waist, pulling you closer as he encouraged you to speak, “It can’t be that hard Flower, you’re very well spoken.”

You could smell his piña colada chapstick, he was so close you could practically taste it too. Annoyed with his continued teasing you tried to lean forward and kick things off, but he leaned back. His lips were now drawn to a full smirk, obviously happy that he was winning. More than anything you wanted to kiss him and wipe that smug look off his face.

“You’re a dick,” you accused.

“Really? I’m just trying to help,” his chest vibrated against yours as he let out a low, sensual chuckle, “If you just tell me what you need I’m sure there’s something I can do for you.”

“Sex Tom,” you stated bluntly, “I want to have sex. You know it’s really unsexy when I have to say it out loud like that.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, I thought it was incredibly sexy,” he purred before he pressed his lips to yours.

His fingers sank further into your waist and you wrapped both of your arms around his neck. A deep, satisfied groan left your lips at the contact. Tom dropped one hand to your thigh and attempted to pull you into his lap, but his plans were foiled by the steering wheel. Your ass grazed against it when you attempted to straddle him and set off his car horn, causing both of you to jump and pull away from each other. You stared at each other for a moment before starting to laugh.

“Maybe we should head inside first,” Tom suggested with a smile.

You nodded in agreement and climbed off of his lap and out of the car. Tom followed after you, keeping his hands on your waist as you ran towards the door. He buried his face in your neck while he reached for the door. He left a trail of wet kisses over your skin as you tumbled into the house. You bit your lip to hide your laughter as you made your way towards his room.

He grabbed the back of your dress as you pushed the door open, “Let me get that zipper for you love.”

“Shouldn’t you start getting undressed first?” you spun around to face him, “You’ve got a lot more on.”

“Save the best for last,” he grinned and tugged your zipper down.

“Oh really?” you laughed.

He nodded and pushed the dress off your shoulders. His eyes followed it all the way to the ground, watching as it pooled around your feet. He bit his lips as his eyes trailed upwards, “You know I’ve been thinking about peeling this off of you all night.”

“Dog,” you jabbed playfully as you lifted his shirt.

He grinned and pressed his lips against your ear, “Woof.”

A chill ran up your spine while he nipped at your ear. His hands left a warm trail across your bare skin, sending a flood of heat to your core. He pressed his lips to the shell of your ear and started moving towards your neck. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, craning your head back so he’d have access to more of your skin.

“So I don’t get any help with my clothes?” he teased, you could feel his lips curl to a smile against your skin.

“Not until you ask nicely,” you teased back.

He bit his lip and pulled back so his eyes could meet yours, “You want me to get on my knees too?”

“You’re not the only one who gets to make demands Holland,” you jabbed your finger into his chest.

“Oh well in that case,” he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear again, “Will you pretty please help me with my clothes love?”

“Yeah I think I will,” you purred back, reaching for the bottom of his shirt.

You tugged the thin, cream colored shirt he was wearing over his head and tossed it to the ground. You ran your hands down his chest and abs, stopping just above the waist of his jeans. His eyes darted downwards, watching as you traced over the edge of his pants. Instead of popping open his jeans you hooked your fingers in his waistband and started walking backwards, stopping when the back of your legs hit his bed. You teased him by running the back of your fingers along his waist before you finally undid his button and pulled down his zipper. His jeans fell to the floor and he stepped out of them, placing both of his large hands over your ass.

“Alright,” he hummed, “My turn again.”

His hands dropped to the back of your thighs, before you could react he lifted you up and tossed you onto the bed. You squealed and erupted in laughter while you bounced across his mattress. He laughed and crawled onto the bed beside you, rolling you onto your back and straddling your hips. His hands started at your waist and krept up your body all the way to your breasts. One hand stayed at your breasts, giving a soft, teasing squeeze while the other moved up to your cheek. He used his thumb to tug down on your bottom lip, forcing your lips into a pout.

“Gorgeous,” he commented under his breath, “How about a kiss angel?”

A little awestruck you pressed a kiss to his thumb. Tom had an ability to make you feel so delicate and special, like you were the only person in the whole universe. Already dark eyes turned nearly black as they drank in your every move. Soft pink lips would curl into an almost devilish grin before smothering every inch of your skin in hot, sultry kisses. His hands would trail all over your body, making you feel warm and weak under his touch. It seemed almost unfair how good he was.

You reached up, lacing your hands through his hair so you could pull him down to you. You nipped at his bottom lip right away and he happily opened his mouth. He squeezed your breast again before his hand slipped under you, unclasping your bra with surprising ease.

“Usually takes you longer than that,” you mumbled against your lips.

“Shove it,” he mumbled back before sitting back up.

He tugged your bra off and eyed your chest, smiling wide as he reached down to touch you. He ran his hand over your delicate skin before he leaned in, pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts. You bit your bottom lip while he sucked at the skin there, waiting for him to move to your more sensitive areas. You used one hand to tug at his messy curls, trying to prompt him to move along.

For once he decided against teasing you and moved his mouth over your right nipple, taking the left between two of his fingers.

You moaned and pulled at a tuft of his hair, “Fuck,” you groaned against him, “Tom.”

He continued sucking at your skin while you leaned up into his touch. You rocked your hips up into his, which prompted him to reach down between you. Instead of touching you like you’d hoped he palmed over himself. He groaned against your skin and pushed his boxer brief down off his hips. You reached down to pull your own underwear off but he stopped you.

“Let me,” he purred, running a single finger over your underwear.

“Tom please,” you whined.

Instead of listening he pulled your underwear to the side and slid a single finger into you. You moaned as he started to finger you, rocking your hips eagerly against his hand. He tugged your nipple between his teeth before he pulled away from your breasts.

“That feel good angel?” he cooed, teasing you with a second finger.

You nodded quickly, “Amazing.”

“Good,” he added the second finger and curled them both inside you, “I want you to be nice and wet for me angel.”

You moaned under him while he reached down to start stroking himself. After he was sure he’d gotten you wet enough he carefully removed his fingers and pulled your underwear down. You let out an annoyed groan at the loss, to which he only chuckled.

“Hi beautiful,” he set one hand on your cheek and used the other to reach behind you for a pillow.

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist as he tried to move the pillow under you, “I wanna be on top.”

He grinned and leaned back, “Lucky me.”

He grabbed one of your hands to help pull you up and traded spots with you. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch you climb on top of him. You dragged your fingertips down his abs before you took him in your hand. He bit down on his bottom lip while you ran your thumb over his head.

“Fucking hell,” he swore and tried to place one of his hands over yours.

You swatted it away with a smile, “My turn.”

He chuckled and fell back onto the bed, “Alright.”

“That feel good Tommy?” you cooed while you jerked him off.

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed, “Very.”

“Good,” you lifted your hips and hovered above him, “Ready?”

He nodded and grabbed your hips, “I got you angel.”

You used one hand to hold him in place while you sank down onto him. Both of you moaned as he bottomed out in you. His fingertips dug into your skin while you adjusted to his length. At first you just rocked your hips against him, warming yourself up to the feeling of riding him. He kept moaning under you, using his hands to help guide you through the movements.

You braced one of your hands against his stomach before you lifted your hips and sank down again. Tom let out a deep, approving groan and ran his hands up and down your sides. He moved a hand down to your clit while you found your rhythm. You moaned while you bounced and ground against him.

“Shit,” Tom’s eyes flickered between your eyes and your breasts while you bounced on top of him, “So pretty,” he groaned.

You let out a breathy laugh and ground down extra hard against him. He squeezed your hip and started to thrust up into you. You moaned and brought your free hand to your breasts, pinching the same nipple he’d been sucking at just minutes before. You could feel your high coming, everything building up to the perfect climax. Tom wasn’t any better off either, all his skin was flushed and dewy, and the sounds he was making were downright pornographic. You panted above him, suddenly jolting and moaning when he pinched your clit.

“Tom!” you cried out.

“You gonna cum for me angel?” he squeezed your waist when he felt you tightening around him.

You nodded eagerly, “Yeah.”

“You feel so incredible,” he complimented, starting to take over the majority of the thrusting as you got closer and closer, “And you look so gorgeous angel, can’t wait for you to cum for me.”

You whimpered and leaned forward so you could grind on him a little harder. He pinched your clit again and everything came crashing down. A flood of warmth overtook your body as you clenched down around him. You panted and moaned while he groaned happily. He pushed himself up while you rode out your high, continuing to pound into you while he buried his face in your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin while he chased down his own climax. You threaded your hands through his hair and tugged at some of his curls. He moaned and pressed his lips to yours as he finished. You kept rocking your hips against him, helping him to ride it out the same way he’d helped you. He didn’t pull his lips from yours until he’d finished.

You both wore happy, tired smiles while you stared at each other. After a minute of just staring you both started to laugh and Tom pressed his lips to yours again. He pulled away and carefully pulled out of you.

He hummed, tracing over your hips with a smile, “Bet you’re tired now huh?”

You smiled back, “Yeah, but I need to go to the bathroom before we go to bed.”

He nodded, “Got it, let me get you something to wear.”

He climbed out of the bed and grabbed an oversized shirt for you. He pulled it over your head and helped you stand, laughing when he noticed you wobbling on your way to the door. He pulled on a fresh pair of underwear while you peed and fell back into the bed to wait.

“You need a nightlight in that hall,” you commented, rubbing your eyes as you padded towards him, “I almost walked into Harrison’s room.”

“Well I’m sure that would have made Haz’s night,” he laughed, opening his arms to invite you back to him, “Come on, I’m cold.”

You rolled your eyes and crawled over him, snuggling up between him and the wall. Tom wrapped his arms around you as you laid your head on his chest, one of his hands lazily dragged up your back while you closed your eyes. His chest rumbled with a content hum, a smile tugged across his lips as he placed a kiss against your forehead.

“(y/n)?” he spoke your name softly, trying to gauge if you were up for pillow talk or not.

“Tom,” you mumbled back.

“I’ve been thinking lately,” he continued, a light blush spreading across his cheeks, “About what I want to do with my life.”

“Really?” you yawned.

He nodded, “Yeah, a little. I’ve just been thinking that I really like working with kids, you know, helping them come out of their shells and everything. Maybe I’d like to do that more full time.”

“Like being a teacher or something?”

“I don’t know about that, I never really liked school,” he sighed, “But something with kids, maybe an after school program or some kind of counseling or something? I don’t know, maybe I could just open my own surf school.”

“I think you’d be really good at that Tom,” you smiled up at him, “You could always take a few classes on it and see if you like it.”

He nodded, “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. Then we could carpool to school together,” he chuckled.

You hummed, “Fine, but you better not make me late.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Flower,” he chuckled.

next chapter

❀ ゜.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．゜❀

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mydisenchantedeulogy · 22 days

Text

Love Me Bitterly [Chapter Three] Fate [Adam]

A/n: This is a shorter chapter with unfortunately no Adam, but it's setting up some things. Also, the song Marcella is singing here is 'The Fighter' by In This Moment. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): Foreshadowing, OC, Adam being Adam (briefly), sexual jokes, short chapter.

Tag list: @lala-1516

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

No Minors Allowed!!

The soft click of footsteps filled the stairwell as Marcella ascended to the library. Her work uniform hugged her body like a warm blanket, feeling stifling in the heat of the day. Once she reached the top, she took in a deep uneasy breath and walked to her desk; the scent of aged paper and weathered leather binds permeated the air.

It was peaceful, but Marcella would rather be in the field. Earth was a magical and wondrous place if one knew where to look. Yes, her job could be quite irritating if an evil-hearted person began to abuse their power, but most days it was serene. Her wanderlust knew no bounds.

Awake and restless, she sauntered over to the drop-off box and began to sort through the few books that were returned. There weren't many, but Marcella figured that it would be better to get her work done than wait. She would go insane if she sat down now.

As she registered the returns in a thick organized book by her desk, she sang, hearing her low husky voice echo off the walls.

“I will fall and rise above. And in your hate I find love. ‘Cause I'm a survivor. Yeah, I am a fighter.”

Humans had such captivating lyrics. They sang of heartache, addiction, and death; all things angels never experienced. She reckoned some Virtuous remembered the experiences of their human lives, but none of them spoke about it. Don't dwell on the past.

Marcella hummed the haunting tune as she flew to the bridge above and put the books in their designated areas. Once she was done, she used her wings to give herself a slight boost and stood on the railing. If Imelda caught her, she would be in a world of trouble. She stared down at the wooden floor cast in an array of vivid colors from the stained window overhead, then leaped off the edge, spreading her wings.

“I will not hide my face. I will not fall from grace. I'll walk into the fire baby,” she sang as she slowly floated toward the ground.

The heels of her boots gently clacked as she landed; a wide smile graced her face. Perhaps the artists of Earth knew their subjects well, inspired and awed by bored angels who were caught descending from Heaven, their voices carried by the wind.

Marcella sighed and walked over to her desk. Her fun was done. As she sat down, she noticed something that she must have overlooked earlier. It was a folded note with a yellow flower resting on it. Upon further investigation, she realized the flower was a Creeping cinquefoil, a common weed.

She was grateful for the gesture, despite the misunderstanding. If not for her aunt and her love of flowers, she wouldn't have known the difference.

The note, however, had her befuddled.

For your lame flower thing.

Marcella raised a brow. What did that mean? Flower thing. Then it hit her like a bucket of ice water, or a cup of iced coffee. Adam. She paled. Was he the one sending her the lewd notes?

–

Around the afternoon, the heat of the day grew warmer. Marcella opted to take her lunch break in the shade of a light yellow umbrella at Sweetly, a little café within walking distance of the historical library.

To join her, she called up her gossip-loving coworker, Rilea, who was thankfully not in the field today. Marcella ordered a green tea and a salad with two chocolate chip cookies to go as she waited.

“I'm here,” Rilea announced as she hurried to the patio table from the street. She greeted Marcella with a smile.

“I'm glad you could make it,” the blonde stated.

Rilea was too. She had a lot of business at headquarters to attend to, but thankfully she saved her break. Imelda was urging her to take it. Giving her order to a waiter, she waited until her dessert was brought to the table before she brought up the matter at hand.

“You sounded urgent on the phone. Are you OK?”

Marcella opted not to beat around the bush.

“Is Adam my admirer?”

“Why would you think that?” Rilea asked. She tried to hide a smile.

Was she serious? Marcella took an uneasy breath.

“I had a run-in with him yesterday - literally - and I made mention of a hobby I currently got into. This morning I found a flower and another note on my desk.”

Rilea squeaked. Her wings rose in excitement.

“That's so romantic.”

No, it wasn't.

“Have you met Adam?” Marcella asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, but Nera said he's a bad boy who loves music. That's right up your alley,” Rilea explained.

As much as she wanted to disagree, she was right. Marcella did like music and bad boys - Azrael was her crush forever - but Adam was on another level.

“It wouldn't work. Trust me.”

Rilea frowned.

“You don't know that. It's not fair to write him off without giving him a chance.”

The blonde's wings sank. Did she have to? She was right, but it seemed like such a waste of effort.

“But he's so full of himself,” Marcella whined.

“You could be full of him too,” Rilea pointed out.

The blonde nearly choked. Did she seriously just imply that Marcella should have sex with him?

“I'm gonna ignore that you said that.” She took a drink of her tea and opted to change the topic of the conversation. “How is work?”

“Hectic,” Rilea admitted. Her smile faded. “But you know how it is before the festival.”

Festival. Was she referring to the Celebration of Lights?

“Is it already that time?” Marcella asked.

Rilea shook her head.

The festival takes place every year in Seraphim Square, a celebration to honor the Seraphim who govern Heaven. It was a fun event.

“Well, that's something to look forward to.”

Rilea agreed, grinning again.

“Perhaps Adam will go with you.”

Marcella narrowed her eyes. There was no way she was going to attend the festival with Adam. To be honest, she was going to avoid him at all costs.

If I can manage it.

Unbeknownst to her, he had already pulled the strings that would again bring them together.

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #adam x oc #hazbin hotel fandom #adam hazbin hotel #oc

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getosscorpio · 2 years

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Forever Mine

Part 2: The big surprise

CW: gentleman Nanami, fluff Nanami

Wc: 1,4k

I still wasn’t sure if I was going to wear that black dress for the party. Shoko said that it was supposed to be a normal gathering of both Jujutsu Highs of Tokyo and Kyoto, but Gojo was talking about a surprise. There was supposed to be a big surprise for everyone, something we could’ve never thought of. Ridiculously I was hoping to see Geto again... But it was impossible that Gojo would hide him and bring him to such a formal occasion.

I did my makeup, tied my hair in a ponytail and wore my black long silk dress. It was an expensive one from one of my favorite boutiques in New York. It was backless and it revealed a huge part of my body. But I was sure that I wouldn't be the only one wearing something like that.

The party was arranged in the main hall of the tech which was decorated with elegant lights and flowers. I somehow felt adored to be welcomed back like this. Or it was maybe arranged to announce Gojo’s surprise after all.

I chose one of the tables in the corner and took a seat next to Shoko. She was poking on her cigarette and talking to Mei about some upcoming missions they were supposed to handle together. I was getting bored, and everyone was busy talking to each other.

“You wanna grab something to drink?” Gojo whispered to my ear from behind.

“Oh you scared me! Yeah, sure.” I stood up and he took my hand to walk me to the large table where all of the drinks and food were set.

“Is everything alright Y/N? You seem to be sad.” he looked at me with a worried gaze.

“I’m fine Satoru. I just wanna see your surprise and then go to bed ‘cause I'm so fucking tired.”

“Tired? Tired of what? The party hasn’t begun yet!” he chuckled as he pass me a glass of wine. “So, you’re excited for the surprise... I see! It may not be what you wish for, but it’s still a good one.” he said with a naughty smile on his face.

“Well, I don’t wish for anything. That’s not something to wish for anymore...”

“Listen Y/N” he stepped near me and whispered to my ear. “I gotta talk to you after this. There are things you have to know by now. And even my surprise is connected to all these things.”

I was completely confused by that time. What was he even talking about? Didn’t I already know about Geto’s plan?

I was just about to ask him as one of the drivers came and told Gojo to follow him. He pardoned me and walked quickly away with him. I took another sip of my vine and as I turned around to head back to our table, I heard Gojo saying “Ladies and Gentlemen, here we go with our big surprise of the night, my dear Nanami Kento!” I turned around to see what I was hearing. They were both standing just a few steps away from me. Was that the same Nanami? Or was I dreaming? He wore a black suit with a matching tie and a white shirt underneath. He was just a few centimeters shorter than Gojo. But what catched my eye was his broud figure. He had an amazingly built body. I was imagining his naked body as he started talking.

“Thank you so much Gojo! Good evening, everyone. It’s my pleasure to meet you all again. I’m honored to come back here and work with eveyone of you.” he said as he was smiling at everyone. I was wondering if he had seen me yet, but I decided to head back to Shoko and Mei before everyone was going to run to Nanami. How has he got so gorgeous? Even his voice had changed since the last time I had seen him. What the fuck was wrong with me? Come on Y/N, he’s just an old classmate and a coworker now.

I sat down on my chair and started fixing my hair.

“Where were you little princess?” Shoko said with a soft smile on her tired face.

“Nowhere. I went to grab some vine with Gojo before this sexy guy got here.”

“So, you noticed as well, huh?” she chuckled and took out her phone to dial some numbers. “I guess I'm leaving soon. I’ve got so much work to do for tomorrow. You’re gonna stay longer?”

“Umm... yeah, I guess.” I said as I was looking for Gojo and Nanami.

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” Shoko took her stuff and walked towards Nanami to welcome him back. I looked around and relised that Mei had left too so I was the only one sitting at the table. I noticed Gojo and Nanami walking towards me, so I pretended to be busy looking for something in my mini bag.

“Annnd here is the other newcomer.” Gojo laughed and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“Oh, hi! Welcome back Nanami!” I tried to stay as calm as possible. I stood up to shake his hand. He took my hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of my hand.

“Y/N! It’s good to see you again. I heard you got back just a few weeks ago, right?” He was staring into my eyes and only if he knew how much he was!

“Yes, it’s been 3 weeks since then.” and finally he let go of my hand and put his hand in his pocket. I offered him one of the seats and Gojo went to talk with the others.

“So, you’re planning to stay?” I asked him quietly.

“Yeah, I wasn’t supposed to come back. But I think it’s the right time to be here. I don’t think that my business would get ruined if I would help the others.”

“Your business? So, you’re owning some I guess, right?” my voice sounded a little bit too excited but, at that moment, I just wanted to know more about him. It was obvious that Nanami wasn’t the same boring and nerdy student I used to know.

“Yeah, I'm running a logistics company. But I've got enough people to manage it for me. My only worry right now is the current problem here.”

So, there was obviously something serious going on. But why didn’t they tell me? Even Nanami knew about it. It sounded like they had asked him to come back and to help them solve the problem.

I didn’t really relize how the party ended. The guests from Kyoto were supposed to stay the night at the tech so they went staright to their rooms. I picked up my bag and was walking out of the door as I heard someone calling my name.

“Y/N!” I turned around and faced Nanami standing behind me. “Can I walk you to your room? It’s dark outside you shouldn’t be alone.”

“Sure! Although it’s pretty safe around here.” I smiled to reassure him despite all that.

We walked through the long roadway that led to the building where my room was located. The first few moments passed in silence. We were already getting away from the main hall and all we could hear was the sound of the cars on the highway.

“You looked amazing tonight!” he finally broke the silence and crooked his head to look at me. I smiled but I was sure he didn’t see my face in the dark. I bent my head slightly to see him. He had both his hands in his pockets and was looking at the ground.

“Thank you! You looked very good too!” I tried to say it as loud as possible but due to my nervousness my voice was getting low.

“You know, when you left to study abroad, I thought you’d never come back. Especially after what happened between you and Geto. I'm happy that you didn’t do so.”

“Sometimes things change faster than we may think. I couldn’t live without you guys anymore. After all I belong here!” we reached my front door, but I was hoping to continue the conversation with him.

“Is it already here?” he asked me when he saw me standing by the stairs.

“Yeah, thank you so much Nanami. I wish I could ask you to come in but I'm sure you’re tired.” I was playing with my bag and was trying my best to hold eye contact with him. But his eyes, even in the low light of the moon, were too firm and intimidating to me.

“No problem. I’m gonna come here tomorrow. Gojo wants to talk about some major things with us, so I guess we’ll meet again.” he said as he took out one of his hands from his pocket. I shook his hand and I immediately felt how warm his hand was. God, I needed to stop myself before things would get too obvious.

“Then, have a good night and see you tomorrow Y/N!” he gave me a soft smile and waited for me to enter the building.

“Good night Nanami!” I walked in and headed straight to my room.

After getting dressed in my comfi clothes and getting rid of my makeup, I went into my bed and the first thing that crossed my mind was Nanami. He really was the big surprise after all. I knew he was busy with his own job, but I'd never thought that he would get back to Jujustu High. But why couldn’t I get him out of my mind? I wasn’t supposed to have any feelings for him. Not after seeing him after 8 years...

rbs are appreciated <3

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kassil · 7 months

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Callsign: Archon

Chapter One, Part Five

"Ah. You must be Archon's newest pet." The words, coming from behind Julie as she cautiously explored the space outside her berth, caused her to spin sharply on her heel. Behind her, having apparently just come out of a lift, were two women who were almost identical; both just a little shorter than her, both with short-cropped hair the color of frost, both with identical pale blue eyes, both with the same lean and muscular build, both wearing tights and a crop top that left their muscular torso exposed. The only clear difference between them that she could see was the ill-healed scar twisting up and across the left one's abdomen, as if something had tried to disembowel her and she had kept the scar as a proof of her survival.

"Well, even if she is, she is still our crewmate. Let us introduce ourselves, yes?" The one without the scar made a dramatic bow as she spoke. "I am Merwyn, callsign of Knight. I am the vanguard when Archon is not deciding to lead by example in the worst of ways." The other bowed as well, the motion just a little stiffer than the other's. "And I am Merwyn, callsign of Ashes. I am close-quarter specialist for squadron, you let me go first if we are expecting to fight in tight spaces."

"Uh. I- I'm Julie. I guess my callsign is Mirror?" She made herself relax; these two were supposed to be here, they were her coworkers, and they weren't going to eat her despite the whispering from the primal part of her brain that they were dangerous.

"Mirror. Good callsign. Do you have a specialty for your role, or is it not decided yet?" The first one - Knight, I guess? If they're really named the same thing I guess I need to memorize the callsigns. - tipped her head to the side slightly. "Ah, we are missing electronic warfare specialist. 'Mirror' is a good callsign for someone who will baffle and confound the opposition. Perhaps this is what you will do, even if you do not know it yet. As much as it annoys, Archon has a gift for telling when someone can fill a need for her squad."

Ashes nodded once. "This is why we are both here, as sisters of blood, and not as a girl and her replaced innards. Archon saw us as two people, and helped us fake our deaths in the procedure that would mark Merwyn an adult, with healthy innards and no childhood cancers left, and saw us healed with the medicines of Union." She grinned, a sharp thing holding something deeply unpleasant. "I keep the scar, I say, to remind us that Merwyn of the Ashes was meant as no more than a purse to carry some health for her sister, to see her to being an adult."

"Enough. She does not need to know our story to know we are good to fight alongside." Knight elbowed her sister - clone, Julie realized belatedly, Ashes is a clone. She'd heard that some of the settled worlds relied on clones so that some people could replace failing organs without waiting, but she hadn't heard of any where it was expected that children would need clones for such. "Come! New as you are, it will be important to get your bay filled with your engine of war."

Ashes sighed, rolling her eyes slightly. "Sister, please. It is a mech. She will not be impressed by such archaic terms - not even when you call yours a steed of steel and fire that you ride to battle. It is silly." She turned to Julie, shaking her head. "Forgive my sister, she read the histories growing up, with all the romance of the phrasing, and is determined to make it how everyone refers to things."

"Just because you neglected your education, sister, does not mean others cannot appreciate the beauty of the words!" Knight sniffed dramatically. "If she wishes me to cease, like Mask, she can ask me as an adult does, not whine like a child."

The pair bracketed her even as they continued bickering, each one looping an arm through her own, and her choice became one of walking with them or being carried - and she had no doubt that they would carry her slim stationer form without even noticing, even if she tried to go limp. Julie chose to at least pretend that she had a say in the matter, and matched their pace, trying not to think too hard about how incredibly warm each of them felt alongside her.

A very small part of her wondered if they were as agile as their appearance suggested, in addition to being just as strong as they looked.

Intro | Previous | Next

#callsign: archon #mech #mech pilot #lancer #fiction

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sovengardeswag · 7 months

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The Dogtrot Murder And Why You Should Read it (contains spoilers)

Like many people, I don’t read as much as I would like. I’ll set aside time to read during the day, but it’s limited, which is why it took me several months to read "The Dogtrot Murder" by Nick Sanders.

At a little over 400 pages, this urban fantasy is what I would call average in length, if not a touch shorter due to the illustrations by the author. They're lovely black and white pieces, traditionally drawn in a cartoony style, filling the book with just an extra bit of life and helping the reader get a sense for the scenes and characters.

The story is about an apprentice mechanic with a drinking problem named Maurice Hutch who finds himself turned into a vampire by a roving pack and must become accustomed to his new life as a creature of the night, all while dealing with life in the 2000s, personal problems with his coworker, and a mysterious serial killer who may or may not be supernatural in origin.

For full disclosure, I need to say that Nick Sanders is a friend of mine. I was familiar with the main character for about two years before the novel’s debut. However, I can tell you with confidence that The Dogtrot Murder is a book that I highly recommend.

The first point in this book’s favor is the strong narrative voice. As shown on page 12, line 15, “For a moment, their lips met under the buzzing yellow backlot light. Jessica ran her hand down Maurice’s side. He could feel her laugh against his lips. Maurice felt like he was dreaming. Maybe things were turning around. Jessica ran her hand from his side down along one leg of his breeches and dipped into his toolbox.

With a single graceful sweep of her arm, Jessica brought a heavy pair of pliers against the side of Maurice’s skull.” The narrator really conveys how sudden this violence is, going from Maurice’s perspective to Jessica’s almost seamlessly. It feels like something a friend is telling us. The narrator also shows a bit of personality while being matter-of-fact, as seen on page 124, line 35. In a section of the book where the omniscient point of view lets the audience know what some cows feel about being fed on. “However, all Maurice heard was “Moooo.” because he didn’t speak cow.”

What really impressed me however was how the narration was able to convey “mundane” despair in a way that doesn’t feel necessarily like tonal whiplash. This is seen on page 361, where the character Meranda, Maurice’s co-worker at the gas station he apprentices at, learns of her father’s death. For context, Meranda spends the book becoming increasingly more irritated and volatile due to her father’s terminal illness and this is the culmination of that stress. Maurice and the audience were unaware of this. “Then, everything he’d known or thought he knew about the stony Meranda fell away as she sank to the floor and collapsed into herself. She had started to bring her hands up to her face but stopped halfway and let them dangle uselessly, fingers curled, as powerful sons shook her tiny frame. She coughed and squeaked and tried to choke back the awful sounds coming out of her.

She knew it was stupid and that she was stupid for pretending nothing was happening for so long. And now nothing really was happening because it was over. Meranda wailed.”

The characters are also a highlight of the book. The first thing you’ll notice is that several characters have uniquely spelled names, such as Meranda and Margret (Maurice’s mother). While some may find this distracting, it’s my opinion that these names add a sense of authenticity to the characters as unique spellings are, ironically, not too uncommon throughout the South. But I would be remiss to imply that names are the only reason these characters feel real. The third-person omniscient perspective allows us to get into each character’s head when needed, such as in the previous passage I quoted. Each one is vibrant and full of life, especially the undead ones. Even in the case of one background character whose personality can be succinctly described as “an asshole,” you feel like you’ve had the displeasure to meet someone like him before.

However, I need you to take the A Night in The Woods comparison seriously. The Dogtrot Murder does have a larger overarching threat and conflict, mind, but it is much more about Maurice adjusting to his new life as a vampire than it is about the identity of the serial killer. Much like how A Night in The Woods’ gameplay is more focused on Bea’s interactions with her friends and family than it is on her dreams. If you like slice-of-life and coming-of-age type stories, however, I highly encourage you to order the book on Nick Sanders’ website here.

#sam speaks #sam writes #essay #book recommendations #the dogtrot murder #vampire #urban fantasy #horor #spoilers

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fionas-treasure-chest · 1 year

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Misplaced Shame

“Have you ever felt like you ought to be ashamed of yourself…but you aren’t?”

Halewynn’s question took Skadi by surprise. Fifteen words and it felt far heavier than any question Skadi had ever been asked. Even when she compared it to the secrets and regrets friends and coworkers confided to her, it still landed on the ear like an angry gobbue’s slap.

The lalafell frowned as she considered the other woman. She had only met her two weeks prior and hadn’t yet formed an opinion about her.

Halewynn had always seemed pleasant enough. But there was always this sense of feeling withdrawn. As if the hyur closed herself off from others with unseen walls of doubts and fears.

Skadi had pushed the thought aside at the time. But now…

She set her camera down on the workbench to her right and then nudged it out of reach She took her time in turning the instrument this way and that while she considered the best way to approach her coworker's question. She was thankful that Halewynn had been patiently waiting for her since the thinking took quite some time.

“Ashamed?” Skadi said, “I’m guessing you’re asking about yourself.”

Halewynn’s cheeks darkened. She covered her cheeks with her gentle palms and bobbed her head.

Skadi nodded back and motioned to the other woman.

“Well, spill it then. What are you worried about?”

Halewynn lowered her hands until they came to rest in her lap. It gave the woman a gentle and pleasant air that matched the soft warmth in her eyes. Her back was straight, shoulders back, and chest pressed out which only emphasized her large bust.

But Skadi kept her eyes focused on Halewynn’s eyes. Which she was thankful for when the hyur said.

“Well…I was just thinking about where my life has taken me. And I can’t help but wonder if I lost my way.” Halewynn said.

Skadi leaned against her workbench.

“What do you mean? Do you not like working at Aces and Fates?”

Halewynn shook her head.

“No, it’s not that. I enjoy the tailoring work. Always have. Knitting dresses and mending socks is calm and peaceful. But you see…it’s not my only job.”

Halewynn lowered her gaze to a spot on the floor and pressed her fingers together. She hummed as she searched within for the energy…and permission to share.

Skadi blinked. Her eyes roamed over Halewynn’s body to try and guess what the other job could be. She knew it had to be something that most ‘decent’ folk would consider shameful. Yet something that didn’t require her to stay in one place, considering her employment with the airship, Aces, and Fates.

Halewynn was a shorter, softer woman with one of the largest busts in the crew. She always dressed and smelled nice with perfumes that were neither too oppressive to annoy nor too faint to be noticed. Her clothes were all hand-woven marvels that were well-fitted to her body.

Halewynn was certainly no adventurer with a build like that. And she doubted the woman was the type to sling drugs like the Somnus dealers in Ul'dah's shadier markets. And even if she was, how would she get new supplies given how frequently the crew traveled hither and yon?

Which could only leave…, Skadi thought.

“Are you an escort?” Skadi asked.

Halewynn bit her lower lip and bobbed her head.

“Yes…I am. Even before the captain hired me, I would sometimes wear a particularly bright hat and wait near the market streets in Ul’dah. It was a sign of what I was willing to offer to lonely merchants or frisky couples that wanted something a little different.”

Skadi crossed her arms over her chest.

“And you’re ashamed of it? Or feel you should be at least?”

Halewynn nodded.

Skadi pursed her lips. She had her opinions of the oldest profession and women like Halewynn that she was willing to share. But there was something else that came to mind that seemed far more curious to the lalafell. Something that hung at the edge of her tongue demanded to be asked.

So Skadi climbed atop the stool, then clambered to the edge of the workbench. She then wiggled around until her eyes were leveled with Halewynn’s.

“Before I answer,” Skadi finally said, “why tell me at all? We’ve only just met not even a month ago.”

Halewynn flopped into a stool and leaned forward. She set her elbows on the workbench close to Skadi’s camera, then rested her chin on her palms. Her fingers curled and pressed into her cheeks which gave her a cute little pout. The woman then huffed a puff of air that brushed her golden curled hair away from her face.

“I don’t know…I suppose I just feel like I can talk with you. I don’t really get to work with anyone else in the crew. The treasure hunters just wait for another voyage and adventure. The entertainers are busy practicing their acts. And the technicians are always working on the workshops and engine room. But you and I…we take photos for our posters. We advise performers on colors and garb that suit them. And…well, we just both have a good sense of beauty.”

Skadi leaned her head to the side.

“That makes sense…and we are an awful far way from Ul’dah aren’t we?” Skadi said. “But if you’re ashamed of it, why would you tell me? If you just wanted a friend…”

Halewynn motioned to the lalafell with the tip of her head.

“Well..I had to talk with someone. And barring sharing with the captain, you seem like the best fit. You aren’t that high on the ship’s hierarchy…” Halewynn admitted.

Skadi smiled and clapped her palms together.

“So, I was the safe and convenient option? I get it…”

“Then…would you answer my question?” Halewynn said.

Skadi leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

“Have I ever felt like I should be ashamed of myself, but wasn’t? That’s an easy one to answer…I have.”

Halewynn blinked and leaned closer to the lalafell.

“Have you? What happened and how do you deal with it?”

Skadi waggled a finger at the other woman as she spoke with a tone that seemed contemplative and far away. Almost as if she spoke through dreams. And though she didn’t look at Halewynn as she spoke, she could feel the enraptured attention the hyur afforded her.

“Well, it all happened before I was offered the job to be the crew’s photographer. I was one of the Sabotenders at the Golden Saucer, which pays well I will confess. But it didn’t pay enough for what I wanted. You see, I always wanted to get my hands on a tomestone and capture the sights and people of the land in a way that only painters could hope to match. But the equipment alone would have bankrupted me, even with the more than fair wages a Sabotender mascot was owed.”

Halewynn gestured to Skadi as she looked the other woman up and down. Her eyes fell on the lalafell’s figure, with her curvy figure.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Skadi said, “I wasn’t always this curvy. I started working as a Sabotender in my late teens. I was much smaller and slimmer then. But then, I came of age and was exposed to a new way to focus my Chakra. It’s a lot of aetheric science stuff, but suffice to say my body filled out a lot more than most.” She paused and gestured a hand over herself. “When my curves came, I had to leave the job. I mean…have you ever seen a busty sabotender?”

The women shared a laugh.

“So what happened next?” Halewynn asked.

“I was given some time to find new work and a healthy package since there wasn’t anything else at the Saucer that suited my skill set, at least nothing that was needed. So, I had to find something new to keep me fed and to push for my equipment.”

“So what did you do?” Halewynn asked.

Skadi smiled and motioned to Halewynn.

“I offered my services as a courtesan. Just like you did. There was a club I worked with for a time that took very good care of their workers. We were safe and respected and paid very well.”

Halewynn gasped.

“Yes, it’s true. It seemed like a good way to make fast gil, doing something that I enjoyed. And it helped me get used to my new figure. And the pay was enough to more than make up for what I lost and push me towards my goals.”

“But…” Halewynn said, “What about the shame?”

“I didn’t feel it at first. I had chosen the work. I wasn’t yet fully invested in my martial training and I didn’t want to work a trade for the stuffier nobles and merchant families in Ul’dah. The owners of that club were kind and largely left me to my own devices. I just had to pay the tailor to repair my clothes and pay a cut for the room I used. But then…” Skadi said, “then I met Malla.”

Halewynn clicked her tongue at Skadi. “Who’s Malla?”

“Malla was a viera and I met him at the Saucer. He worked as a technician for the Air Force One game and he had the biggest crush on me.”

“Oh! That’s so sweet.” Halewynn said.

Skadi shook her head. “Not quite. He was not the kind of man I’d ever tumble. I always had this feeling that something was off about him. Like he was too dangerous to spend time with if I could avoid it. And the day he hired me out I learned why.”

Skadi tapped her fingers against her knees as she recalled that day.

“I recognized him as soon as he came into the room. I greeted him even as my body tensed up without knowing why. Ordinarily sessions begin with a talk about what was desired along with our mutual limits. But Malla just lunged at me to grab me. I dodged out of the way and he started snarling about how I had only rejected him because I was a whore and how he could have me all to himself if I but let him purchase my contract. He promised me jewels, silk clothes, and all the food and comforts I could ever want. But what he was really selling was bondage.”

“Really?” Halewynn said as her eyes shone with interest. “What did you do?”

“So I turned him down and kicked him in the shins. Then called for the guards to take him away and ban him. And he made quite the scene yelling all sorts of awful things, from being ‘just a whore’ to how I would never amount to anything.”

Halewynn shivered and rubbed her arms.

“As you can guess, I was shaken. I was never in fear of Malla. I still had friends in the saucer that I could talk with to have him banned for his behavior. And even with my then-limited training, I was more than a match for an abhorrent admirer. But, his words stung.”

Skadi shut her eyes and crossed her arms beneath her bust. She shook from side to side as those negative feelings from back then came rushing to the forefront of her thoughts.

“I wondered if, perhaps, he was right. What if I earned my gil in another way? Something that men like him would have respected? What if I was indeed just a whore?”

Skadi drew in a deep breath. She could feel Halewynn's intense focus and could only guess how enraptured the woman was by her story.

“But then,” Skadi said, “The madam of the house pulled me aside and said something that changed my mind.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense. What did she say?”

Skadi smiled and repeated the madam’s words as if they were writ upon her heart.

“Some will not respect the work you do, whether here or in one of the shop’s around Ul’dah. But at the end of the day, We are the only ones who should decide what is and is not acceptable. No one else has the right to choose what is right for us.” Skadi paused and smiled. “Now of course she was quick to specify that as long as one harm’s none on their path then it’s acceptable. She was equally dismissive of soldiers, mercs, and drug peddlers. But the point she made stuck with me. And perhaps, it will stick with you too.”

Skadi opened her eyes and darted a finger toward the woman's heart.

“Someone, somewhere will say that you should be ashamed for what you do. It doesn’t matter what you do, there’s always someone that will disagree. But if you can be happy and proud, then you are doing the right thing. In other words, there’s no such thing as you ought to feel shame unless you decide you aren’t living the life you wish.”

Halewynn hummed and considered the other woman’s words.

“It may be a while to accept that lesson. I know I had to repeat it to myself a dozen times before it really became ‘truth’. But, I hope you at least rest easy that you and I both walked down similar paths and I have no judgment about you.”

Halewynn smiled and moved around the worktable until she reached the lalafell’s side. She wrapped her arms around Skadi and squeezed the woman tight.

“It does. Thank you so much. My last client made me feel similarly…especially since I don’t work for a formal house. But, I’ll reflect on your words so I can stand taller.”

Halewynn released Skadi, then returned to her side of the studio. She sat down at a loom and focused on a tailoring project she had left behind so she could speak with Skadi that afternoon.

Skadi picked up her camera and turned it this way and that as she thought back to that day. She resisted the shudder that memory always caused and focused on her work.

#FFXIV #ffxivwriting #lalafell #hyur

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dancingqueen0019 · 1 year

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Saving Grace Ch. 10

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Author’s Note: Hello again everyone! I’ve got a few chapters typed up this time so prepare for plenty of content to come out. Some chapters are longer, other’s shorter...but they all have our favorite man :)

Warnings: There is a decent amount of death talk, however I bunched it into one spot. That is designated between a series of lines. If car crashes and death are not your thing, scroll past the series of solid lines (you don’t miss anything of great importance).

On Tuesday morning I gingerly slid myself into my packed car and waved goodbye to my family as I pulled out from the long driveway. Lewis and I had mostly broken in Dipshit and the cows were ready to go for the Fall.

Grandma sent me home with a cooler full of frozen meats, breads, and cookies so I wouldn’t miss her cooking for too long. I promised I would be out soon to help around the house and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Murphy enjoyed his time by chasing the goats all weekend and even learned what a cow looked like and what a cow hoof to the head felt like. His fault for trying to go near her calf though. He quickly ducked back under the fence and ran straight for me to cuddle him and tell him that he would be okay.

At this point, I had enough time to get home, unload the cooler, put Murphy away, and change clothes for my lunch date. I was looking forward to meeting up with Lindsey, but even more so for getting all the chunky baby cuddles in with her little one Mavery. Until I have kids of my own, I relish any opportunity to hold, play with, or even babysit my friend’s kids. I’ve become the “Aunt” of my coworkers and a couple of them have already booked me to watch their kids for a much needed date night with their spouses/partners.

Murphy settled in on the passenger seat and let out a high pitched yawn. I rubbed his ears and went to turn up the radio. My phone buzzed in the cup holder and when I got to a stopsign I picked it up to notice a message from Aaron.

Aaron: Good morning. Are you on the road yet?

Me: Yes, already left. I can’t wait to see you tonight :)

Aaron: Drive safe darling

My breath caught in my throat for a second and an ooey gooey feeling spread across my chest, he called me darling. He’s never done that before and that makes me pretty darn happy.

The drive home felt much quicker than normal and I managed to get everything inside with time to spare. It was a bit warm today so I changed into jean shorts, grey short sleeved shirt, and a rust colored cardigan. When I told Aaron what cafe we were meeting up at, he mentioned how that was one that he and his team would frequent for lunch. They would also apparently send someone out before their flights take off to grab a series of snacks and sandwiches for the plane ride so they could have the comfort of home despite where their flight took them. I thought that was pretty sweet that they tried so hard to keep a sense of normal in their abnormal lives.

Lindsey was there already with a table held by the time I pulled into the parking lot. Mavery was sleeping in her car seat and her toddler Myatt was coloring on the paper menu. “Hii! Sorry, I know I’m a bit late.” I said as I gave her a quick side hug and then sat down next to her. The cafe was newly redecorated in light wooden tones with bright shiplap walls and lots of pastel flowers and thick greenery. The original owners sold it and the much younger new owners wanted to revamp the space in hopes of drawing in more customers.

“Oh please, you are right on time. These squirrels were becoming impatient so we left early. I ordered you a drink, it should be here any minute.” She said with a wave of her hand before helping Myatt pick up the spilled crayons from the floor. I looked over the menu and settled on a pesto chicken parm sandwich with fries of course. After our drinks arrived and we placed our orders, Lindsey and I got to talking while I helped Myatt color in his photo. We went on to gossip about our students and the other teachers for a bit. Myatt’s food came out first, so his mom started cutting up his food for him and Mavery woke up crying for her food. I unbuckled her from her carseat and placed her on my lap facing sideways.

Lindsey handed me her small jar of pureed apples with a ‘thank you’ and a small spoon. I opened the jar and dipped the spoon into the liquid so she could get a taste of it. She only started eating baby food recently so I didn’t want to overwhelm her. Her mouth smacked together happily and the little noises made me smile big. She is quite a character when it comes to food, and her animated features just make her seem like a living cartoon character. When mine and Lindsey’s food came out, she offered to take Mavery so I could eat but I waved her off and said that she didn’t need to do that. I wanted her to have a break and be able to eat her food while it was still hot.

As Mavery smacked her hands together in a clumsy clap while she gummed on the apples I looked up and saw a big black SUV pull into the parking lot. For a moment I smiled to myself and thought about Aaron being the one driving that car.

To my surprise, he was the exact person who left the driver’s seat in jeans and a college shirt, and opened the back seat door to let Jack jump out of the car. The shocked gasp that left my lips caught Lindsey’s reaction and with a piece of lettuce hanging out of her mouth she asked “What?” and followed my gaze to the parking lot. “Him? Do you know him?” She asked as she wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

“Uh yeah, sorry. That’s just one of my students and their Dad. I have always thought about how weird it would be to see my students in public and this is the first time it’s happened.” I said with a light laugh and turned my attention back to Mavery. I was sitting so that the main entrance was in front of me, so if Aaron came in looking for a table, then he would be able to see me clearly. The first set of doors opened up and Jack quickly raced to open the second set of doors for his Dad. I picked the spoon up from the apple jar and continued to feed Mavery a couple more small bites and dabbed the corner of her mouth with the napkin. I felt eyes on me so I glanced up slightly to see Aaron staring at me with a small smile on his face, his dimples slightly showing. I returned the smile and he continued to stare at me with joy, but also a hint of something else I couldn’t make out because his attention was shifted away due to Jack pulling on his arm.

They walked to the other side of the Cafe and waited for their waitress to come by. “Is he a good student of yours or is he a little you-know-what.” Lindsey asked as she ate the last of her sandwich. I smiled and shook my head, “If I had to be a bit biased, I would say that he’s the best student I’ve had all year. Couldn’t say enough good things about that kid.”

Lindsey pushed her plate to the side and said that she would take Mavery so I could eat my food. I lifted her up high and she started giggling really loud. Bringing her back down to my face, she placed her hands on my face and babbled a bit before I lifted her back up in the air again and made loud kissy noises so she would laugh more. She jammed a hand into her mouth and laughed around it, I scrunched up my nose and spoke in a baby voice, “Whatcha got in your mouth Mavery? You got your hand? Ohhhhh, that looks like a yummy hand. Come here pretty girl!” I brought her down one last time and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

Mavery kept babbling as I handed her over and Lindsey kept talking to her. Myatt and I got deep into conversation about race cars and Lightning McQueen while I ate my sandwich and fries. Every so often I would look behind him to catch a glimpse of Aaron and Jack now chowing down on their food before returning to my table. We sat for a bit longer after I finished eating to just enjoy the company, but I knew that the kids would dictate soon enough that it was time for this party to be over. The waitress came over with our bills and Lindsey handed Mavery back over to me so she could take Myatt to the bathroom one last time. Once she left, I noticed Jack and Aaron were making their way over to me.

Jack got excited once he saw me lock eyes with him and he quickly dodged between tables to reach me. A huge smile was planted on his face and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Hi Ms. Y/N!” He said as he gave me a side hug. I slipped my arm around his back and gave him a hug back.

“Hi Jack! Did you enjoy your lunch?” I asked and he nodded enthusiastically. He went into great detail on what he got for lunch and how this is one of the best Cafes he’s been to. Aaron finally made it to the table at this point and greeted me. He rested his hands on the back of the chair Myatt had been sitting in previously.

“Ms. Y/N I didn’t know you had a baby.” Jack said and that caught me off guard completely. I coughed a couple times from choking on some spit and I shook my head, “Oh uh, no Jack. Ms. Y/N did not have a baby. Maybe one day she will have one though.” Aaron said adamantly and gave me a pointed look.

His lips formed a smirk and I mimicked it before turning to Jack, “This is another teacher’s baby. Would you like to say hi to Mavery though?” He said ‘hi’ and waved to her and I grabbed her little balled up fist and waved it to say hi. “Are you excited to be going to camp this week? You’ve been talking about it in class a lot.”

He blushed at that a bit, “Yes I am! Dad and I wanted to get lunch before he dropped me off. It’s going to be sooo much fun.” His smile matched his father’s to a t. He leaned more into me when talking so I wrapped my arm closer around him as he whispered to me, “Can I share about camp during Circle Time next week? I really want to tell everyone how it went.” He fidgeted with his fingers while he waited for my response.

I hummed a bit before saying, “I have an even better idea. Why don’t we have everyone make a poster explaining what they did on Fall break. I think the majority of our class had something planned.” His mouth dropped open a bit and he bounced up and down in excitement.

“That means we get to do a really big show and tell and then, and then I can hear what Zach did. I forgot to get his mom’s number so we could hang out over break so now I have to wait for class to start again.” Jack rambled on excitingly and I couldn’t help but nod along and hang onto every word he said. Lindsey and Myatt came back to our little group and Lindsey introduced herself to Aaron. Jack briefly talked to Myatt about the coloring page that Myatt had colored in while waiting for food earlier, and Mavery kept herself occupied by chewing on my clean fingers.

“Uh Jack buddy, we have to get going in just a minute so we aren’t late. Say your goodbyes.” Aaron said carefully to Jack and he took that as his que to wrap up his conversation with Myatt.

I looked up to Aaron and his eyes darted between me and Mavery before he smiled warmly and softly said, “It was good seeing you again Ms. Y/N. Have a good afternoon.” Jack gave me one last hug before departing with his dad. Lindsey took Mavery from me and buckled her into her carseat before leaning across the table to me.

“He’s not that bad looking. A bit older, but still a solid man.” I rolled my eyes at her jokingly, “And,” she continued, “did you see that he didn’t have a ring on?!” This time I hit her forearm lightly and urged her to quit it. We said our final goodbyes in the parking lot and I made my lonely drive back home. After I fed Murphy an early dinner I got to work on laundry and sorting through bills so that I wouldn’t have to worry about that while Aaron was here.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket and unsurprisingly it was Aaron asking for my dinner order from whatever sounded good. I shot back my Chinese takeout and headed up to my room to make sure that it and the bathroom were cleaned and organized. I lit the giant sandalwood candle on my bedside table and moved a couple things around so the flame had nothing to catch fire on. Aaron should be at my place in the next twenty minutes, so I just took my time watching a TV show waiting for the doorbell to ring.

When the doorbell finally did ring I raced Murphy to the door and swung it open wide to see a beaming Aaron holding his overnight bag in one hand and food in the other, “You know,” I started as I opened the door, “it seems like everytime you come over you have food with you. I think that is one thing I can always count on now.” He chuckled as he removed his shoes and I took the Chinese bag from him.

“Well, I’m glad that I can be useful for one thing at least.” He joked as he pulled me in by the waist and gave me a kiss on the cheek. There was a playful glint in his eyes, something I haven’t seen before. He almost looked ten years younger with that look and I wanted to keep that look on his face for as long as possible. He seemed relaxed and calm.

“Ohh, I can probably figure out at least two more ways for you to be useful.” I patted his chest with my hand twice as I walked to the kitchen island. Aaron took the food out while I grabbed two glasses and filled them with ice water. I sat down sideways on the barstool so I could face Aaron face on and he turned a bit so his left knee knocked into mine. We started eating pretty quickly and fell into easy conversation of how our breaks have been. His was pretty quiet and mundane, which for Aaron is something he wants, but he felt out of place with not having much to do.

I suggested that he find a hobby he can stop and start whenever or TV show he can binge watch when he has enough downtime to help combat that restlessness. That of course led into a whole discussion of what shows and movies are more superior and even if he did have enough time for a hobby, what would he even be interested in doing. “Well, what about collecting things? You go to so many states, maybe you could bring back something like a postcard from them?” I suggested.

He immediately shook his head, “Nuh uh. That would be way too similar in my head to serial killers keeping trophies. Wouldn’t want to mimic that too much incase I bring back more than just a postcard.” He said quickly as his eyes avoided mine. I knew what he meant. He didn’t want to look at the postcards and be reminded of the people he either saved or didn’t.

I sucked in a quick breath, “Okay, no postcards then. Got it. Uhh, let's run down the list of usual collectors things. You’ve got stamps, rocks, art pieces, figurines, coins..”

“Coins!” His eyes shot up to mine again and a light look took over his face.

“Coins?” I reciprocated with raised eyebrows. That didn’t take long to find a possibility.

He sat his fork down momentarily, “Yes, coins. When I was younger I was getting into collecting them and I became obsessive over finding a rare 1944 coin that was worth thousands of dollars. Never found it and started growing out of it I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a small smile.

“Huh.”

“What?” He asked sheepishly and fidgeted in his seat a bit.

“Nothing, I just wouldn’t have thought you to be a coin guy. If I had to pick a collectors item for you I would have said something like model planes or cars.” I shrugged and turned back down to stab my fork into the chinese food once more.

“What about you? Did you collect anything as a kid?” Aaron asked as his knee knocked into mine a bit. He took a long drink of water and grabbed another crab rangoon.

“Yes, actually I did. It’s a bit nerdy, but it makes sense for me. You know, grandparents owning a ranch, being around horses all my life, riding at rodeos…” I led on and he caught what I was saying.

“Horse models?”

“Ohh yeah. I would convince my Dad to buy them and my Grandpa to build the shelves for my room. For a time I wanted to get rid of them, until I learned how valuable the collection was. Truly I think that my mother just wants to keep them for any grandkids she may have.” I said with a small smile on my face. It was a happy memory to have of my Dad, him adamantly saying that he wouldn’t buy me any more, but anytime we went into the tractor supply store I would refuse to leave until I had a new horse. Eventually he tried to go to the store without me, but when I would stand pouting with my arms crossed in front of his truck, he had to give in.

We finished dinner and moved to the couch upstairs. I put on some background TV but we mainly just sat there talking. Wrapped up in each other’s arms. He extended his legs to stretch out onto the ottoman, and I laid perpendicular to him so that our bodies made an L shape. My head and hair was splayed out onto his lap and every so often he would run his palm over my hair. I tried keeping a neutral look on my face, but my inner thoughts were eating at me.

I really want to know about his wife. I know it's personal and he probably doesn’t want to talk about it, but I’m nosey. As much as Aaron tries to maintain a calm exterior, there have been moments where he has slipped up. Just tonight even he broke a little. We were starting to walk up the stairs, with me in front, and there was a loud bang from outside. I wasn’t too phased by it, figuring my neighbors dropped something, or something broke, but Aaron’s spooked look in his eyes told me he was phased by it. He whipped his body around to look behind him on the stairs. He startled me by barking out a “Stay here” before slinking back down the steps and out to the main floor.

I heard doors opening, shutting, and locks locking. I swore I heard the dull clicking of the window locks before a deep sigh sounded out. Aaron gave a tight smile and said that it was nothing and urged me to go upstairs.

“Something is weighing on your mind.” Aaron observed, and I blinked a couple of times to clear my head.

Releasing my lip from my teeth I meekly looked up, “Sorry, just kept thinking about something.”

“What is it?” He asked as his fingers gently traced my cheek. I closed my eyes briefly and gathered my two seconds of courage.

“I was just thinking about earlier, when you went to check the house. Is that something you normally do because of your job or is there another reason?” I whispered out and for a moment I thought he didn’t hear me. That is until his hand paused heavily on my hairline.

“It..it has to deal a lot with work. There was a time when my work carried over to my home life and it still affects me.” He spoke out with a faraway glance in his eyes.

I pushed my luck even further and asked the big question, “Was it related to your wife?”

His eyes closed and he took a long breath in, “Yes.”

A thick sour taste was in my mouth now and I became a bit afraid to ask for more context, but I headed into this wanting to know so there was no going back now. I reached behind me and grabbed his hand, “May I ask what happened?”

His hand clenched under mine and his head turned to the side, the tension in the air becoming thick, “I can share my story first if it helps any.” I offered up and he nodded, still not looking at me.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I swallowed the lump in my throat before speaking, “Technically speaking, the whole thing was ruled as an accident, however it was natural once you break it down.”

“We were heading out to my Grandparents for the weekend and Mom went a couple hours ahead with Lucas while Dad and I stayed behind to finish a couple errands. There’s many things I don’t remember so some of this story is my personal recollection and the rest is what I’ve been told over the years. I remember sitting behind my dad with my stuffed dog. We were actually almost to the house according to my Mom when all of a sudden the car started spinning and then I blacked out from the impact.

“My father had a spontaneous brain aneurysm burst and it killed him immediately, which is where natural death comes in. When he passed, the car spun and it threw us off of the road. When I finally woke up, I was hanging out of the window facing the ground. The car was pinned against a tree and I couldn’t move. By the time the ambulance got to us, I wasn’t really alert.

“What I was told was that I was in an upside down V position with my lower chest hanging over the bent metal of the door frame. According to the doctors, I would have bled out if it hadn’t been for my stuffed dog wedged between me and the bent metal. It didn’t stop it from cutting into me completely, but it stopped it enough so I could hang on for a few hours. I spent 18 months in the hospital recovering from surgeries to my chest and abdomen, reconstructing my ankle, and repairing my femur. They had to keep me in a coma for a couple months and the doctors weren’t sure I was going to pull out of it.

“Once I did get out of the hospital I went right into physical therapy and my Grandfather managed to befriend a couple of college students who were doing equine therapy. I wanted to be back on a horse so bad so once the doctor cleared me, I started my therapy on horses. That lasted at least a couple of years. I had my mobility back, but my Mom still wanted me enrolled just in case I needed a bit longer. It took a huge toll on my family though. My Mom lost her husband and bestfriend, Lucas and I lost our Dad, and my Grandparents lost their bonus son. We really weren’t a family for awhile, my Mom was hyper focused on me for a long time so my Grandparents were raising Lucas. Even though Mom was by my side for everything, I could sense that she wasn’t really with me though mentally once the day was coming to an end. She didn’t sleep much and I could hear her cry throughout the night. It changed all of us, sometimes it was a good change, but for a long time it was just a bad change.” Finishing up the more abbreviated version of my story I looked back up to Aaron to find him finally looking back at me.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

His lips were turned down into a frown and his dark eyes looked even darker somehow, “I’m sorry.” He whispered out and I looked at him puzzled.

“For what?” I asked and he smoothed my hair out once more.

“That all of that happened to you. It's one thing to lose a parent that young, but it's another to be heavily involved in it like you were. Do you still deal with any physical trauma from it? I know it was a long time ago, but are you okay?” He asked worriedly and a warm feeling spread across my chest.

“Just a couple of scars. Some of them healed over time, others I got surgically lightened, but I left the rest as a reminder to what happened. It is a part of me that I can move on from, but can’t remove from my life. As sad as it was, I don’t want to forget what happened.” I shifted myself up so I can now sit on my feet next to Aaron and he slipped an arm around me to pull me in close.

I laid my head on his shoulder softly and played with the hem of my shirt.

“My job killed my wife.” Aaron said after a minute of silence and I froze up at the statement he just made. He continued talking, “There was a mad man, a monster, that wanted revenge and he chose my family. Even after placing them in witness protection he still found them and he shot her. I found him and I..” He paused and I lifted my head up to look at him. Aaron was staring ahead with another faraway look in his eyes so I placed my hand on his cheek. He startled a bit at my touch and I peered into his eyes, understanding what he was trying to get at.

“You did what you had to do.” I said in a firm voice.

He pulled me over to sit on his lap and he buried his head into my shoulder. It took a moment before I wrapped my arms around him and ran one set of fingers through his hair. A sudden sob halted me though and my heart clenched at the sound. “Let it all out honey.” I cooed softly in his ear and his grip became tighter on me. I had to hold back from wincing and pulling out from his embrace.

We sat there for a couple of minutes as he cried into my shoulder, his tears soaking my shirt. “I miss her so much. She was the first woman I ever loved and she was the mother of my child.”

I pressed my lips into his hair, “I’m so sorry Aaron. I’m so sorry that you were put through that. I’m sorry that she was taken from you and Jack.” He nodded against my shoulder and he stayed quiet.

I went to shift myself backwards but Aaron pulled me back to my original spot, “Please stay” He whispered. He went on to speak softly about how he hasn’t been able to really mourn since he has to be strong for Jack and continue with his job. He turned his head so that his ear was smooshed up against my breast, I’m confident he could hear my heart beating loudly in his ear though.

“Thank you for sharing about her though. I hope I didn’t push you to say something too soon.” I said and he lifted his head back up to me.

“No, you didn’t. Thank you for getting me to share. I needed to get it off my chest.” He reached up and kissed my cheek. He pulled back and asked with brows furrowed, “Do you know how great you are?” I smiled and scrunched up my nose at him. My head shook slightly side to side and his lips turned upwards, “Well then,” He quietly started, “let me show you.”

His hands grabbed my cheek and the back of my neck to pull my face to his and his lips bruised themselves against mine in a firm kiss. A numb feeling was spreading itself over my brain, making it go hazy until he released the hand on my cheek and pressed it against my back. Before I could hold it in I let out a yelp in pain and before I could process what happened, Aaron had yanked backwards and let go of my back.

“What’s wrong?” He yelled out in shock, his eyebrows immediately furrowing together. My hands reached around my backside to apply the smallest amount of pressure to stabilize myself. Aaron’s focused eyes followed my movements and grabbed the bottom of my shirt.

I pushed myself up and off of Aaron before he could lift my shirt up, taking a couple steps back to create some space. “It’s not your fault, I promise I’m okay.” I tried soothing him but it didn't appear to do anything. His mouth was silent but his body wasn’t. Any person would be able to tell that he didn’t believe a word I said as he sat there rigid and on edge.

“Let me see.” He said in a low tone.

“No, it’s okay Aaron. It’s nothing really, it was just an accident.” I said in hopes that he would just drop the conversation. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of what happened, just more so embarrassed.

He rolled his eyes and stood up, taking a giant step forward so that he was towering over me. “I said,” He grabbed the bottom of my shirt again, “let me see.”

My shirt was pulled up several inches until it bunched up under my bra. The breath that left Aaron’s lips told me that he saw the deep purple bruises that blossomed over my back. At first I didn’t want to look up into his eyes, afraid of him seeing the embarrassed blush that creeped over my cheeks.

“Who did this?” He rasped out in a gruff tone. When I didn’t answer him right away two fingers hooked under my chin to force my gaze upon him. His eyes were dark and hard, a long way from the playful glint at dinner. I suddenly wished to myself that we were back at dinner again, almost scared of his reaction to my bruises.

I brought myself back to the moment and a quiet, “It was no one..” started to slip past my lips but I couldn’t finish as Aaron cut me off.

“I promise you, Y/N, I will deal with whoever did this to you. Just, please tell me their name, darling.” His voice kept its gruff tone until it became pleading at the end. My lips pursed together and I shook my head slightly.

“It was no one Aaron, it was an animal. A horse. I..I was thrown off yesterday.” I explained quickly and he still didn’t look convinced so I reached into my back pocket, “Here! I’ll prove it to you. There was a video taken.”

I held the phone out for Aaron to watch. My mom was filming on my phone so that we could keep a record of how far Dipshit has come since the beginning. Lewis and Grandpa were standing next to her commenting on my form and how it looks from their perspective. In the video Dip and I were trotting around in large circles and I got a bit cocky and urged him into a faster gait.

Dip didn’t like that and threw his head downwards so that he could start bucking his back legs into the air. I held my own for the first several bucks and tried my hardest to pull his head back up so that he couldn’t continue bucking. That ended up not working and soon I found myself debating if I should get off or not or if I should ride my way through this.

Lewis and Grandpa were giving conflicting shouts of what to do. Mom’s voice could be heard somewhere on the video between the both of them, telling me to ‘just hang on’ and that ‘you’ve got this’. That didn’t last long as Dip reared up and when he came back down, I was flung over the front of him, landing on my stomach. The air was knocked out of my lungs from the impact and whatever air had started seeping back in was pushed back out as Dip trampled over me.

Mom’s horrified gasp was accompanied by a lot of ‘Oh shit, fuck’ s from Lewis and Grandpa. Lewis had ducked between the fence and started sprinting to me as did Mom while Grandpa went after Dipshit. Lewis had turned me over onto my back so that my airway wasn’t blocked. He started running his hands over my shirt to check for any blood or broken or swollen joints. The raspy inhale of air sounded over the camera that Mom was still holding. I don’t think she knew she was still recording at this point.

“Oh honey! Honey, you’re going to be okay. Lewis help her.” She shrieked out and Lewis knelt down next to me, taking my face in his hands.

“Y/N, breathe. I need you to calm down and get air back in you.” Lewis said as he lightly tapped my cheek. My eyes were wild in the video and my arms were flailing around, knocking into Lewis’ legs. After a couple more breaths I managed to get my breathing under control and I coughed to get the tight feeling out of my throat.

Mom must have noticed that the camera was still recording so she fumbled around for a couple seconds before figuring out how to stop the video feed.

Aaron took a ragged breath in and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking back down at me. “Are you okay? Did you get checked out?” He said in a hard but quiet voice.

I placed a small smile on my face to tell him that I was okay, “Yes, I’m okay. Incredibly sore, but I’m okay. Mom took me to the hospital, nothing was broken, just really bruised.” He leaned his forehead down onto mine and took another deep breath in. I closed my eyes and relished the moment with him. His hands dropped from my back, the shirt following too and replaced themselves on both sides of my cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered and kissed my forehead, “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m glad you are safe now. It’s been a full night for both of us now.” I wrapped my arms around his side and pulled him closer to me.

“Want to go shower? Maybe cool down a bit?” I suggested and he hummed in response. We pulled away and made our way into the bedroom.

I turned the water on hot in the shower so that the bathroom could start steaming up. Aaron sat on the bed, looking into the bathroom as I moved around and grabbed a second set of towels for him. I grabbed my makeup remover and wiped off as much as I could before I released my hair from its hold and scratched my scalp to ease the roots of my hair.

I could feel Aaron’s eyes on me as I started to discard my clothes, one-by-one and put them into the laundry hamper. First was my shirt, putting my bruises on display, along with the rest of my scars from my accident. Next was pulling my pants down, leaving me in just my bra and underwear. I slowly slid my pants down my legs and stepped out of them, tossing them into the hamper. I glanced over to Aaron and he was intently watching me, with firm dark eyes. I inwardly smirked to myself and slipped my arms out from the bra straps.

My heartbeat was rapid in my chest, mentally preparing myself to remove one of my last pieces of dignity. I peeled the cups of my bra down and gently laid it on top of the rest of the clothes. I turned towards the shower, my backside fully showing to Aaron, and opened the shower door to turn the water on to hot. As I stood there waiting I took a deep breath and reached my arms above my head to stretch. My hair fell backwards as I arched my back and pushed my chest up to the ceiling. Bringing my arms back down I let out my deep breath and tested the water temperature with my hand, making sure it was warm enough for me to step into.

Stepping in, I was enveloped in the hot water. At least it matched how I was feeling on the inside. My eyes peered through the open shower door to see Aaron sitting on the bed still. He was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, his hands somewhat clenched together. It looked like he was struggling to stay composed, and the small chewing on his bottom lip only confirmed that for me. We bore into each other’s eyes for a beat before I soothed out, “Come join me.”

#aaron hotch x reader #Criminal Minds #teacher #thomas gibson #love #jack hotchner #fbi

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queenofrunonsentences · 1 year

Text

Joust a favor

I've had this in my drafts unfinished for a while but recently got the muse back for it so here you go.

This is a ST AU -Set in the early 2000s. Eddie gets a job working at medieval times as a knight whose job it is to rescue a princess from an evil knight every day, it’s only a matter of time until he falls for her.

On the side of the road between Hawkins and Marion Indiana, sat a large old house and a giant theater. From the street view it looked pretty normal but if you were to go past the gate and into the staff parking lot you would find a large farm with a barn, covered arena and lots of pastures.

In the feed room of the barn was a young woman scooping grain into buckets. Her auburn hair was pulled up in a bun, with a few strands having worked their way loose due to the strenuous barn work. “Hey V, can you throw the horses out, they’re feeling a little fresh and I would rather have ‘em run it off out there than in the show tonight.” Her boss called from the office at the end of the barn. The red headed young woman who was nearly finished setting grain for the evening shift wiped her hands on her cropped tee with dancing skeletons on it and affirmed she would before finishing her task adding supplements to each bucket.

A few moments later, Valerie pulled her sunglasses down from her hair before opening the stalls of the two closest horses and slipping their halters over their ears. They were a bonded pair so walking the two large draft horses out of the barn was a relatively easy task for the shorter young woman. “Hey do you need a hand?” A voice called from behind her, a young man with long dark curly hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail was loving on their newest arrival. “I’m good, I’ve got it.” She insisted, not sure who he was or if she could trust him with their horses.

Her brusqueness didn’t seem to deter him, In fact she saw a wry smile on his face when she glanced back and noticed he was following them on their walk out to the back pasture. She ignored him for as long as she could, opening the gate with one hand and pushing it inward before leading the two horses through it “Can I help you?” She demanded as she removed their halters and the two horses snorted and took off running, kicking up their heels.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you, I’m here to shadow you?” He offered, leaning on the fence to watch as the two horses ran around the field and started to fight playfully. “I’m your new coworker, Eddie.” He added as she hung their halters on a hook by the gate and latched it behind her, finally turning to look at him fully.

He was tall and lanky but she could tell he had some strength to him, and despite wearing sneakers he had followed her out through the mud. Valerie had to admit maybe she may have misjudged him. “Sorry, I thought you were one of the new actors for the show. They always try to come back and flirt with the barn staff.” She confessed, squinting up at him. She wiped her hand on her shorts before offering it to him.” I’m Valerie but you can call me Val, or V.” She told him. Eddie smiled again and took her hand. She tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered, offering him a smile in return as she dropped his hand and turned to lead him back toward the barn so they could grab the next to horses to take out to pasture.

“This is Clementine and Winston, they’re in love so be careful.” She warned as they haltered the next two horses, a chestnut mare and a grey gelding “I’ll let you take Winston, he’s sweet. Clem is my little problem child, aren’t you?” The redhead teased the mare with a bright smile, pressing kiss on her nose before leading her from her stall towards the pasture. Eddie walked Winston behind them easily, reaching up to pat his neck gently “ hey there big guy” he said softly as Winston turned to look at him curiously.” Careful he might check your pockets for snacks.” She called over her shoulder as the large horse started nudging at his back pockets insistently. “Oh he’s good, I do have a few carrots in there. Can he have one?” He asked hopefully, smiling broadly when she nodded “only if you share with Clem or she’ll get jealous.”

Val watched as Eddie pulled two carrots from his pocket and carefully placed one on his flattened hand and offered it to the gelding he was leading when they stopped at the gate. The grey giant inhaled it happily, crunching and giving Eddie a gentle nudge in hopes of getting another. Eddie chuckled and shook his head “you don’t wanna share with your lady? Come on dude. Have a heart.” He teased as he extended the other carrot to the mare Valerie was holding. While the mare enjoyed the snack, Val opened the gate so they could set the two horses free and go get the next pair. They spent the next half hour that way, taking horses out and her filling him in on how the barn was run and what his duties would be during feed shifts.

They had finally emptied the barn and were sitting on the bench behind the building and taking a smoke break when the boss lady found them. “ oh good V you met our newest hire, Thanks for showing him the ropes. Eddie is going to be picking up some slack around here so you can finally get a day or two off.” Ellen, the boss of the farm, and Valerie’s mother told her with a soft smile. “He’s also going to be joining our cast, so you two should probably head to rehearsal soon before Robert throws a fit.” She warned them with a smile before heading back toward her office. “ Oh Eddie, find me after and we will set your schedule for the month.” She told him before closing the door and sitting down at her desk to make some calls.

Valerie lifted her gaze to him, a brow arched challengingly “so totally not an actor here to hit on the barn staff?” She teased and he chuckled sheepishly “technically I never denied it” he reminded her, flashing her a charming grin. “So what role are you auditioning for? Court jester ? “ she taunted playfully. Eddie laughed and shook his head. “ I was told to audition for a knight, I think the red one? since I’m decent at stunts.” He told her, motioning for her to lead the way towards the theater for rehearsal. “Well that would be a nice change of pace , our last red knight fell off trying to pull the princess up onto his horse's back.” She joked as they made the short walk.

“What’s your riding experience like?” She asked as he pulled the heavy door open and held it for her, watching her through his lashes as she passed. “ oh I - y’know” he said scratching the back of his head as he let the door swing closed and joined her inside what looked like a warehouse but when he peered around the corner past the double doors he saw the holding stalls, some stairs , and a bathroom. “No I don’t know, And while I’m stuck in the role of princess your riding skills literally put my life in your hands so....” She said pointedly as she led him towards the double doors that lead to the arena where the rest of the cast was waiting for them.

“You tell me when you hear something you’ve done… western, roping, barrels, weaving, gaming, penning or trail riding. Or English? Cross country, dressage, show jumping…” she trailed off when she glanced up and saw his overwhelmed face. “So I might’ve exaggerated my skills a little? I’ve been on trail rides, and ridden my uncles dead broke old gelding but that’s about it” He explained tentatively, fiddling with his rings. She sighed heavily and rubbed her face in frustration before coming up with an idea to save them both. “Listen, I can teach you a lesson a week, and get you up to speed if you’re dedicated to learning.” She told him firmly. He nodded eagerly, clearly desperate to keep the job.

“Lessons are 40$ you can pay with ass, grass, or cash” she joked, “ just kidding, cash would be great.” she corrected, clearing her throat awkwardly. Eddie grinned and stuck out his hand to shake on it and she returned the smile shyly “I could actually make grass work if you wanted.” He teased back, before pushing open the doors so they could join the others, and get introduced to everyone. He shook hands with his new director and boss, Robert, the man who owned the property. Soon he was being passed around from one coworker to the next, meeting Nancy, the kind looking older woman playing the Queen and Micheal a grumpy looking older man who played the King, before meeting his fictional Rival, the yellow knight who was played by a very friendly middle aged man named Hank with a graying goatee.

The rehearsal was simply dinner and cookies and a table read of the season's new script, but it went as smoothly as it could. Val was clearly bored of the princess role and Robert was either unaware or ignoring it. After they had run through the script and eaten Eddie with was asked to work through the blocking of his duel with Hank, Val had climbed up into the stands and was making herself at home, taking a seat on the edge of the front rows tables to watch and eat a plate full of the cookies her mom had made for everyone.

She chuckled as she watched as he wailed on Hank with the wooden sparring swords, making the older guy put in effort for the first time in a long time. When Robert finally announced they were done for the night and would rehearse again in a few days, this time with costumes. Eddie said his goodbyes and thanked everyone, glancing around to see if he could spot Valerie and say goodbye but her spot in the stands was empty and he couldn’t find her. Shaking off his disappointment Eddie headed back out the double doors and made his way back to the barn to make his schedule with his other new boss Ellen.

While Eddie met with her mom, Val sat on the barns front porch swing digging through her purse to locate her joint tin. Once she found it she pulled one from it quickly, glancing to see if any of the other cast members had wandered into the barn before heading home. Once she saw it was just her mom, Eddie and maybe Robert she lit the joint and took her first puff of the day, letting her eyes fall closed as she leaned back into the swing and let her body relax, while she continued to smoke and swing.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she heard the door to her moms office swing open and then shut. She stopped swinging and was about to open one eye to squint towards the barn and see if her mom needed her help when she saw Eddie waltz out with a cigarette between his lips. “Y’know sharing is caring.” he teased as he searched his pockets for a lighter. “Don’t know you well enough yet to care.” she teased back, holding out her lighter and gesturing to the rocking chairs and the seat on the swing next to her.

He opted for the chair out of politeness, but let his fingers brush hers intentionally as he snagged the lighter. “Thanks princess.” he taunted, having picked up on her disdain for the role. “Oh shut up.” she snapped, as she held out the half smoked joint to him in an offering of friendship. He took it with a grateful smile, tucking the unlit cigarette behind his ear and taking a deep pull before passing it back. “Your boss doesn't care that you smoke at work?’ he asked, meaning both her mother and Robert, and she shook her head.

“Technically I’m not working, and they’re pretty desperate for staff so they’ll take what they can get. You didn’t let her schedule you every day did you?” she asked as she took a pull from the joint and handed it back over. He shook his head and chuckled. “No but she did say I need better shoes, and some coveralls for the winter.” he said as a glimmer of concern danced across his features before being replaced with a wry grin. “I’m gonna cover it in patches so it looks more metal.” as he tried not to think about how he was going to afford expensive work boots. ”What size shoe are you?” she asked curiously, glancing at his mud caked sneakers. Eddie shrugged “An 11 I think, why?” he asked as she handed him the joint and hopped up from the swing. “I might have some you can take.” she offered as she led the way towards the parking lot. “I’m right around the corner if you want to try them on, if they fit you can take them for free. I just want them out of my closet.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders and followed her, raising his brows but saying nothing when she climbed into a beaten up old truck. “It’s the farm vehicle, we use it to get grain and hay if we get low between deliveries.” she explained as they climbed into the cab. He chuckled and held up his hands “Hey no judgment here, I’m driving my uncles old van so I have no room to talk.” he insisted with a cheeky smile. She rolled her eyes and cranked the engine before pulling out of parking spot and instead of pulling out onto the road she drove onto the farms dirt road and past the barns and storage buildings and pastures to a small cabin tucked in the woods. It wasn’t much but it was the perfect size for her. There was a small front porch with enough room for two rocking chairs and a small table between them. The front door was a deep green with a small round window at the top. “Welcome to my little hobbit hole, It makes my commute to work pretty short” She joked as she put the truck in park and turned it off and hopping out of the cab “Take your shoes off at the door.” she called over her shoulder as she climbed the porch steps. She flipped through her keys to find the one she needed while toeing off her boots, quickly locating one painted with black nail polish and unlocking the door.

Eddie followed her instructions as she swung open the door and immediately bent down to greet a small wiggling corgi. “Hello darlin, how was your dinner? Did you finish it all? Did you watch lots of Tv without me? I’m so jealous” she spoke in a soft sweet voice as she scooped the dog and stepped out of the doorway to let Eddie into her humble one bedroom home. “Eddie, this is Eowyn, my companion and occasional farm hand.” she announced, jokingly holding out the tan and white dogs paw to him. Eddie took it gently and bowed. “The white lady of Rohan, pleased to meet you.” He said with a smile.

“Oh good you’re a nerd.” she said with a grateful sigh. “Make yourself at home, I’m going to put the kettle on for some tea, would you like any?” she asked as she set the dog down carefully before moving around the small space, filling the kettle with water and turning on the stovetop. Eddie shrugged, “Sure, why not.” and glanced around, taking in her space slowly. There were plants on almost every surface and the walls were exposed wood but she had covered them with posters. Some comic book and fantasy, and some movies and bands. He was admiring a Rob Zombie poster when she broke him out of his trance with another question “Peter or Bruce?” she asked as she held up two cups as choices, One with Spiderman and the other with Batman, He hummed thoughtfully before pointing to spiderman.

“Is lemon tea alright, or would you prefer peppermint, or peach, or earl grey or green tea?” she listed as she glanced through her tea cabinet. “Peach would be great.” he said as he moved to look over her bookshelf. “Thats one of many.” she told him as he looked over the fantasy and sci fi books that filled its shelves. “I keep the horror and true crime and comic books and romance in my bedroom so it doesn’t scare off my guests.” she started. “Not that I get many” she added before putting their teabags in their respective cups.

“Honey?” she asked.” Are we already using pet names?” he asked, looking a little dumbfounded. “I meant in your tea.” she laughed gesturing to the honey she had pulled out of the cabinet. He laughed sheepishly and nodded. “Sure, I’m new to tea, but I trust your judgment. If you’re doing it I will.” He said with a shrug. “Wow, I bet it was easy to get you to try drugs for the first time.” she teased as the kettle started to whistle. She emptied the steaming water into their cups and carried them over to the small coffee table that was covered in bumper stickers that sat between a small leather armchair and a matching loveseat he had taken a seat on She sat them down on coasters “What size coveralls would you need? Do you have a work jacket like a carhartt or something?” she asked, though she figured she already knew the answer.

“Nah, I've got a leather jacket, and a denim jacket and some flannels but thats about it.” he confessed modestly. She shrugged “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got a bunch of stuff that my dad left. You’re what, 6 ft? “ she sized him up as he nodded before turning and walking into her bedroom, she left the door open and Eowyn trotted after her, climbing up a small set of stairs to get up on the four poster bed. When she returned the dog didn’t follow her, having fallen asleep after making herself comfortable on the pillows

. “I’ve got two carhartts, a set of coveralls, and some work boots.” she told him, voice muffled by the armload she was carrying. “You’re sure your dad wont need them?” he asked curiously as she dumped them onto the loveseat next to him. “Trust me, I haven’t seen him in 6 years, and last time I saw him he wanted money, not his old coats. “ She confessed, crinkling her nose at the realization that she had probably overshared. But Eddie just chuckled. “Aw we have matching daddy issues, that's so cute.” he joked, picking up his tea and taking a tentative sip.

“This is really good.” he confessed, changing the topic with ease and taking another sip before setting it down so he could try on the shoes and coats. Luckily the shoes were an almost perfect fit, maybe slightly too big but that gave him the ability to layer up with socks for those harsh Indiana winters. “This is really generous, thanks so much.” he said earnestly. “It’s not a problem, like I said you’re doing me a favor getting it out of my closet.” She took a sip of her tea and tried not to laugh as he stumbled around her tiny cabin trying to get into the coveralls.

By the time they finished their tea they had discussed their favorite books, comic books, movies and television shows and found they had more in common than they realized. Though he couldn’t let her get away with liking Lois Lane and Clark Kent together over Superman and Wonder woman. “They are both equally powerful, he can finally be himself completely with Diana .” Eddie had insisted while Valerie shook her head, more auburn curls falling loose from her hair tie. “He needs Lois, she reminds him of his humanity, keeps him level headed and she gave him his fucking name dude, and she is the mother of his children!” she argued passionately, making Eddie chuckle. “I think we may have to agree to disagree on this one.”

When Eddie finally glanced down at his watch it was midnight. “Oh shit, I should probably let you get some rest, you’re on the schedule for tomorrow morning.” he sounded apologetic but he was having a hard time pulling himself from her couch. “I’ll see you tomorrow night and I can get on your schedule for our lessons, if you're around?” he added, standing reluctantly and taking his cup to the sink “ I’ll be here, I don’t have a social life. I take care of horses and my dogs and read.” she joked, taking her cup to join his. “Alright then, see you tomorrow night, Sweet dreams princess” he said the pet name teasingly, making her roll her eyes when he darted out the door before she could potentially retaliate.

Eddie made short work of the walk across the farm, only having to pause once to adjust the armload of barn gear he had somehow been lucky enough to get for free. When he made it back to his uncle's van he unlocked it and slid the side door open to dump in the spoils of his day before closing it and climbing into the driver's seat. When he turned on the engine Metallica blasted out of his speakers, and he leapt to turn it down before he disturbed anyone's sleep. Flushing and glancing around, he found lights hadn't turned on in the big house, or the trailer near the barn where Valerie had told him her mother lived, so he put the van in gear and pulled out onto the road, he didn’t realize it until he got home but he had driven the entire the 30 minute trip home with a goofy smile on his face.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson AU #stranger things fanfiction kinda?#I dont really have anyone else in there but eddie but i guess we can call it that #This is all because I want to write eddie going to see LOTR in theatres #Eddie munson fluff

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