#for real though is he going to like pass out

[themultifanshipper]

Mayhaps Plus size!reader and Lando? A forbidden relationship, perhaps. Like, she's one of the PR people or something. She's incredibly insecure etc but he's obsessed and can't keep his hands (or eyes) off.

Aight here we go!

Bear with me on this one it gets a tad wild.

Warnings: Lando being a menace, thigh fucking, marking, spanking, bit of spit, also cum

You always wore pants around the paddock, much to Lando's dismay.

When it was just the two of you away from the prying eyes of the public, you would parade around in skirts and dresses, even in nothing but his t-shirts that barely covered your ass. It drove Lando crazy, the sneak peaks were never enough, he had to admire your curves from up close. So usually, the days ended with him tearing your clothes off and worshipping you. And when he felt a bit subby, he’d rut against you, your thighs, ass, tits (anything really), and he would come in his pants like a teenager.

But where there were people, and cameras, you stayed well covered.

There were two reasons for this, there was the reason you told Lando: To keep him from going crazy around you, he was already handsy enough as it was when he could see your skin, leading to a couple of incidents where there had been complaints about PDA.

But the other reason, you didn’t care to share with him. The ‘real’ reason. You were self-conscious about your body. Every other woman in the paddock was basically a swimsuit model, and although you were beautiful (Lando’s words not yours), you felt like covering yourself up was the best way to keep from being judged too harshly.

One day though, you decided to be a bit risqué and wear something a bit low cut, which drove Lando completely mad, but that was the goal.

What wasn’t the goal was the looks some of the employees were giving you all day. One of them even went as far as whistling lowly as you passed. Bastard.

That night you were at Lando’s, flopped on his bed in one of his shirts and he knew immediately something was off. As he started to climb on top of you, hands wandering, you pushed him off and grumbled about not being in the mood. Lando was gobsmacked, you were never ‘not in the mood’.

“What’s up baby?” he asked curling up next to you, letting his hand roam up and down your arm.

“I don’t know, I just- I got some attention today that I wasn’t comfortable with.”

Lando frowned “Did anyone say anything?”

“Not to me directly” you sighed “But I got a lot of dirty looks and even a wolf whistle on my way out at lunch”.

Lando pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Ignore those cunts babe, you wear whatever you want, and if anyone has a problem with that you send them straight to me”

You sighed frustratedly “I’m just not a model Lando, I’m not who you’re supposed to be with. Can you imagine the hate I’d get if people found out about us?”

“I don’t care about them baby, I love you! And all the extra is just more bits of you to love”

He started placing kisses over your chest, down to your stomach and looked up at you. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

He grabbed your thighs and spread them, licking and sucking over them vigorously as you squirmed in his hold. But his fingers dug into your flesh to keep you still as he lavished your skin, sucking bruises into every inch of your thick thighs.

He finally reached where you needed him most, just lazily pushing your panties to the side before devouring you, his fingers soon joining as you fell apart on his tongue.

Once you were fully satisfied, he lifted your legs up, crossed at the ankle over his left shoulder.

“What are you-“ you asked before getting cut off by the feeling of him spitting on your pussy and sliding his cock though your folds to get himself nice and wet, before sliding upwards towards where your thighs met. He was panting at this point, obviously affected by the sight of your skin bulging where his fingers gripped it tight.

“Lando-“

“Shhhhh, baby” he cooed, starting to lose his cool a bit “just let me fuck your thighs, yeah? Let me show you how much I fucking love them” he growled as he slipped in between them easily and started thrusting gently. He groaned and his hips stuttered at the unfamiliar feeling.

The sight of his dick sliding between your thighs was lewd, but the sight of Lando loosing it over them was even better. On every other thrust his dick made contact with your sensitive clit, making you tense, and your thighs clench around him.

But it wasn’t enough for you, you needed more. “Lando please, just fuck me, please!”

You were never above a bit of begging, and Lando was never capable of saying no to you.

“Okay baby, but turn over, I want to see your ass shake when I make you fall apart on my cock”

And shake it did. Lando was pounding into you, hand weaved into your hair to arch your back as he was completely engrossed in the way your ass and thighs wobbled every time his hips slammed into yours.

“All this, baby, all this is just for me” He groaned as he let go of your hair to grab your hips with both hands and picked up the pace.

“Lando, please I’m so close!” you gasped as he tutted “No baby, no coming until I say”. He then raised his hand and brought it down on your ass, hard.

You squealed as he did it again. And again. Until you were a shaking mess underneath him, no longer able to hold yourself up with your arms as you fell into the pillows face first. He loomed over you, putting his hands either side of your head and kept pounding into you, changing the angle drastically, now hitting your g-spot dead on.

“Come now baby, come on my cock like a good girl”

You screamed into the pillow as you did just that, shaking through the waves of your orgasm into overstimulation until Lando took pity on you and pulled out, finishing over your ass and the back of your thighs.

“Fuck can I take a picture baby? I need to add this to my wank bank”

And just like that the moment was broken. But you gave him a lazy thumbs up anyway, incapable of speech for the moment.

Once he cleaned you up, you fell asleep pretty much immediately. And he climbed into bed with you, but not before snapping another picture.

The next day, a picture of you snuggled into the covers, one leg visibly littered in hickeys and handprints, appeared on his instagram.

The caption read: "Thick thighs do save lives, but I would gladly drown 👅"

Well, the PR team was going to have some damage control to do. The problem was, you were the PR team. Oops.

This one kinda ran away from me lmao

Lando being feral is everything to me.

#my thots #lando thots #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #f1 #formula 1 #ask

[aniesvision]

let's find out! (matt x chris x f! reader)

warnings: NOT incest (matt and chris barely even look at each other in this one), drinking, smoking, sexual/+18 card game, dirty talk, dirty jokes, pet names (princess, sweetheart), making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), masturbation, choking, spanking, praising, overstimulation, squirting. (I might be forgetting something)

a/n: omg this is such an alarming amount of warnings I'm scared?? I'm sorry if anything's wrong, english is not my first language!

synopsis: when you were supposed to have a sleepover with Nick, but he forgot to warn you that he was out with Madi, causing you to have a few hours alone with Matt and Chris.

🪻🪻🪻

-I'm here!! —I yell, passing through the front door.

I look around confused when I didn't hear any response, my eyes only meeting Matt's figure on the couch.

-Hey, where's Nick? —I ask, letting my backpack fall to the ground.

-Out with Madi. —He finally looks back at me.

-Oh, he told me to come over, we're supposed to have a sleepover. —I explain, furrowing my eyebrows and taking a seat next to Matt.

-He'll probably be back soon. —He assures me with a gentle smile.

-LOOK WHAT I FOUND.

I turn around, seeing Chris holding some sort of card game.

-Hey, I didn't know you were here. —He walks towards me, playfully messing with my hair. I giggle, shoving his hand away.

-What's that? —Matt asks, curious with the game Chris was still holding.

-Oh, yeah, I was trying to find my belt but I found this instead, it's a game we got as a present on tour, it's called 'Can You?'.

Matt quickly grabs the game and starts reading the instructions. Apparently it has three different parts, one of questions for girls, another one of questions for boys and the last one being questions for everyone.

-Looks like a drinking game. We answer or drink. —He continues reading the box quietly, me and Chris exchanging a look.

They are not drinkers, and honestly, I'm not either. I only like to drink in special occasions and sometimes socially just to get in the vibe, but not much, and definitely not shots. I'm more of a fruity cocktail kind of girl.

Matt opens the box and stands up, shuffling the cards as he walked to the kitchen. He suddenly takes a bottle of vodka out of the fridge, looking at both me and Chris.

-Are we playing or not? —He asks, impatient, making me raise an eyebrow at his tone.

Chris walks to the kitchen and I follow behind, not really in the mood to drink. I watch as Matt sets two shot cups on the counter, looking up at me.

-Wanna smoke instead of drink? —He asks, making my eyes shine a bit.

Although I'm not into drinking, smoking is one of my favorite activities. I love the way the weed makes me feel so calm and connected to the world. Everything feels so incredibly real.

I nod, smiling when he hands me a lighter. I quickly open one of the zippers on my backpack, grabbing a small bag that I use to carry my smoking utensils around. Gladly I already had rolled one and I just light it up, feeling the smoke and blowing it slowly.

Matt and Chris decided to take a small shot before we start the game, and I laugh at their faces as they opened up cans of pepsis to get rid off the taste of pure alcohol.

-Right, let's start. —Chris says.

We all go back to the living room, deciding to make a circle around the coffee table. Chris takes the first card of the deck of questions for boys, reading it out loud as I slowly roll another joint.

-Can you make someone beg for you?

He giggles with his eyes glued on the card, Matt's quiet "what the fuck" makes me laugh as I set the joint on the coffee table and light up the other one I was already smoking before.

-I though it was +18 because it's a drinking game, I didn't know it was about sex. —Matt rests the back of his head on the couch, shaking his head.

-Well, we're already playing and it's only us three, so don't be a bitch. —Chris teases, placing his card aside. -And my answer is yes, I can definitely make someone beg. —He winks with a cocky smile.

Matt takes another shot, announcing that he needs to drink if he is going to sit still and listen to his brother lying. I just simply stay silent, laughing at their bickering and taking hits of my joint, enjoying the feeling.

Matt was next, taking a card from the same deck as Chris and reading it.

-Can you make someone finish more than once in one night?

I look at his cheeks getting slightly red and a shy smirk on his lips.

-For sure. —He shrugs, throwing the card on the ground to separate it from the others.

It was a bit odd to sit and listen to my friends talking about sex. We never really talked about our sex lives before, so I wasn't really sure what to expect.

Both of them look at me and I take a hit of the joint before picking up my card from the girl's deck.

-Can you handle overstimulation?

I tilt my head to the side, setting the card on the floor and taking a deep breath before responding.

-Yeah, I guess. —I shrug.

Matt smiles and Chris just takes another shot, followed by sips of his pepsi.

Things escalated quickly. The boys were already a bit drunk, considering they're not used to drink and a few cards were just way too explicit to even talk about. And I was already getting high, lighting up the third joint I rolled. We were all laughing at nothing.

I wanted to get comfortable so I was now sitting next to Matt on the couch, my legs on top of his.

-You really expect us to believe you don't like to be praised? —Chris pointed between him and Matt, his tone sarcastic as he looked at me like I was crazy.

I laugh, shrugging and throwing my head back to rest it on the back of the couch, blowing the smoke and feeling like I couldn't stop smiling. I was so high by now that my mind couldn't even process my own words, I was just spilling them.

-I don't know, dude. —I respond, closing my eyes and feeling Matt's hands on my legs, holding me so I wouldn't fall from the couch.

-Right. So if, hypothetically speaking, we were fucking and I praised you, you wouldn't like it? —Chris continued, propping himself on his palms behind his body.

I giggle, putting out the joint and laying on the couch, keeping my legs on Matt's. His hands slide up to my knees, thumbs rubbing my skin gently.

-I mean, probably would, but I don't know, I haven't been with anyone who praised me during sex, all I've heard was degrading shit.

I take a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of Matt's thumb caressing my knees and the comfortable position I am. Also, my body feels so light, like I'm floating, the soft tingles on my skin whenever I imagine visuals in my mind of what we're currently talking about makes it harder to concentrate on anything else but how hot the room feels.

Matt probably notices how my body was turning hot, his fingers slowly moving to my thighs. I open my eyes when I hear a weird noise, trying to ignore Matt's hands, and I watch as Chris walks towards me and kneels in front of my face with a grin.

I thought he was going to do something, my heart already beating fast, but all he did was hand me a new card, sitting normally.

-Your turn, princess. —He says, the pet name making my stomach swirl.

I just nod, taking the card and licking my lips before reading it out loud.

-Can you squirt?

There's a moment of silence when Matt and Chris just looked at me and I basically got in a trance thinking about this question.

-I think I can, but I never did. —I give the card back to Chris, who looked at me confused.

Before he could even ask, Matt cuts the silence to do it himself.

-What do you mean?

Once again, I laugh. It was somehow funny to me that this conversation was actually happening.

-I mean, sometimes when I'm like, you know, trying to make myself feel good, I feel like if I keep going for just a bit longer I'd probably squirt, but I never do, I'm actually kind of scared to try, so I don't know. –I explain.

It was weird to say it out loud, but I wasn't lying. Matt and Chris both exchange a look, then they look back at me, making me feel a bit nervous. Matt's hands continued their way up my thighs, slightly squeezing them, making me sigh quietly and prop myself on my elbows. Our eyes meet in a deep stare, his pupils dilated, making the blue almost disappear.

-Wanna find out? —I hear Chris' voice, his tone hoarse and deeper than usual.

My eyes widen at his words, but Matt didn't seem to care at all, he didn't yell at his brother, in fact, he only moved his hands further up and smirked at me.

I turn my head to see Chris, confused if he was joking, but he clearly wasn't.

-What? —I ask, furrowing my eyebrows and laughing out of nervousness.

Maybe I was too high to understand what was happening, but his intentions were exactly what I thought initially. I realize that when he moved closer to me, his eyes staring at my lips.

-I mean, I can help you find out if you want.

He didn't sound so drunk, but it was obvious that he wasn't sober. He'd never say that if he was. And even though I was high and definitely not thinking straight, my mind couldn't process that he was actually offering something entirely different than anything we ever did. And that Matt was silently watching it without interrupting or trying to shove his brother off.

It was weird. And the weirdest part was that something inside me didn't want to deny his offer. Probably not the sober part.

I was feeling so many things at once. I was confused, nervous, my heart was beating so fast, my mind was foggy and my body felt so heavy but so light at the same time, my mouth and throat were dry.

Matt takes my silence as I sign, squeezing my inner thigh lightly, getting my attention back.

-He asked you a question, sweetheart. —His voice echoed around the room.

I watch as he keeps slowly moving his hands, his fingertips brushing against my skin making me shiver. Why the fuck am I wet right now? They're my friends, this is definitely not a good idea.

As Matt's fingers get closer to my clothed pussy, I feel Chris leaning to press gentle kisses on my neck. I sigh in surprise, closing my eyes and automatically tilting my head to give him more access.

I couldn't even believe it was real until Chris placed his hand on my jaw and turned my head to face him, brushing his lips against mine. Still propped on my elbows, I raise my hand that was closer to him and tug on his shirt, pulling him closer.

Matt's hands were quick to unbutton my jeans, slipping them down to my ankles. Feeling the cool breeze against my skin makes me sigh, witch Chris sees as an opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth.

I can feel Matt's fingertips running up and down my thighs, exploring my body. He leans slightly just to press kisses along my legs, teasing me as Chris kissed me.

Ending the kiss, breathless, I pull away, meeting Chris' eyes already on mine. He smiles at me, his hand still on my jaw, thumb caressing my cheek. He pulls me into another kiss just about the same time as Matt's fingers starts rubbing circles on my clothed clit.

I squirm under his touch, moaning softly against Chris' lips. Chris uses his free hand to lift my shirt over my head, throwing it aside and lowering his kisses to my neck once more.

I keep my eyes closed, biting my lips when I feel Matt sliding my panties down and discarding it with the rest of my clothes.

-You okay, sweetheart? —Matt asks. I could sense his smirk just by his tone.

I simply hum in response, still wondering how did we get in this situation, how did I let myself get in this situation. Chris was still showering my body with kisses, snicking his hand under my back to unclip my bra, when Matt's tongue suddenly makes contact with my wetness.

A loud gasp escapes my lips, one of my hands immediately finding his hair. As if this new stimulation wasn't enough, Chris moves one hand to my squeeze one of my tits and the other to choke me lightly.

-Tell me if it's too much, princess, just wanna make you feel good, yeah? —Chris's words only fueled my desire, making me even wetter than I already was.

I open my eyes to take in the situation, the sight of Matt's face in between my legs and Chris's hands all over my body is definitely something I've never thought I'd see. Noticing my gaze, Chris starts to swirl his tongue around my nipple, the pressure on my neck tightening.

I can't help but moan when I feel waves of pleasure taking over my body. Matt's tongue worked magically, it was clear that even drunk he knows how to use his mouth.

Chris kissed me again after a while, swallowing my moans and only pulling away to slap my face. It wasn't so hard, just enough pressure to make me whine with the mixture of pain and pleasure.

-Yeah? You like that, princess? Such a good girl for us, letting your friends help you out, so proud of you.

He immediately kisses me again, not giving me any time to process his words.

-Fuck... —My loud moan is muffled by Chris's lips when a knot starts forming in my stomach.

Matt, noticing I was getting close, inserts one finger in, thrusting it at the same pace his tongue moved. It was enough to drive me crazy, my moans filling the room.

-Close princess? —Chris asks, leaving hickeys on my neck.

-So close. —I whisper back, bucking my hips against Matt's face.

Chris only giggles against my skin, sliding his hand down to my stomach.

Not even a full minute later, the knot on my stomach snaps and I feel myself releasing on Matt's lips and chin. My grip in his hair was tight and even trying to push him away after my orgasm, he didn't stop.

-Matt... —I whine, breathly, my legs shaking and trying to close.

-Just a little bit more, you taste so good.

He only stops to mumble his words, pulling his finger out and gripping both my thighs with his hands, keeping me still.

-Can't... —I start to respond, but am interrupted by Chris.

-Yes, you can, you're doing so good. —He grabs my free hand, guiding it to the bulge in his sweatpants.

I turn my head to look at Chris, watching as he stands up, staying right in front of me. He takes both his pants and boxers down in one motion, my eyes widening when I see his free dick.

-C'mon, pretty girl, you know what to do.

I wrap my hand around his cock, rubbing my thumb against his tip, spreading precum. I slowly start to move my hand, stroking him. His groans were my motivation to increase the pace.

The overstimulation starts to feel too much, and I couldn't stop moving on the couch, squirming and rolling my hips against Matt's lips, trying to cope with the pleasure and slight pain.

-Fuck, can't... mhm shit too much. —I cry out.

Chris places one hand on top of mine, doing almost all the work as I focused on my second orgasm, quickly approaching.

Matt only stops to look up, caressing my inner thighs with his hands.

-Give it to me, sweetheart. Let it all go.

And as soon as he finishes talking, he was eating me out again, making me almost scream out of pleasure.

I could feel that this one was different, way more intense and it was similar to the feeling I get when I need to pee badly.

Chris's sounds only get louder and I feel his cock twitching against my hand, he moves faster and I turn my head to focus on him.

-You're so fucking pretty. —He breaths, a moan escaping his lips as he shoots his load over my stomach and boobs.

The sight of him, my hand still on his length, Matt in between my legs, it was all too much. My second orgasm hit me like a punch, a loud pitchy moan leave my lips as I feel myself squirting for the first time ever, right on Matt's face.

-Holy shit, that was so hot. —I hear Chris whispering next to me, slowly bending to pick up his boxers and pants and get dressed again.

-You did so good. —Matt praises, wiping his chin with the top of his hand and hovering over me to kiss me.

In the meantime, Chris collects all my clothes from the ground, waiting patiently to help me get dressed.

Matt pulls away after a few seconds, pecking my lips and helping me sit down on the couch. Both of them helps me dress up again as I only tried to catch my breath.

-Are you okay? —Matt asks, after we were all decently dressed.

I nod, taking a deep breath to fully recover.

-I am, that was... insane. —I giggle, not knowing exactly what to say.

-Insane is a good word to describe it. —Chris laughs.

When I was about to say something else, the front door opens and we all turn our heads to see Nick.

-What the FUCK happened here?

Nick's mouth opens in an 'o' shape, and just now I look around the room. There's cards everywhere, ashes and a half joint on the coffee table, two shot cups and a bottle of vodka next to the coffee table, and a huge wet spot on the couch. We probably all looked like a mess too.

-You don't wanna find out. —Chris is the only one that comes up with a response.

🪻🪻🪻

a/n: I loveee fics with card games!! also I have no idea if this one even exists, I just "created" it for the fic, but it was so fun to write! I hope you guys liked it too! (also, comment or send me a message if you want to be tagged whenever I post a new fic ✨)

tags 💕

@elsxz1 @ghostlythinggoingaround @zayyluvz @lovefromlilia @101sara

#fanfic #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #youtube #romance #sturniolo smut #smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut

[vidavalor]

This is why The Book of Life is both the most grave threat in GO... and also complete bullshit

I win at attention-grabbing titles today, I think? 😊I don't think that Is The Book of Life real? is the question. I'm more interested in:

Who *believes* that The Book of Life is real and how does that impact their decisions?

Early in S2, there's the scene between Beez and Crowley in Hell, wherein they tell him that Heaven is threatening anyone involved with helping Gabriel with "Extreme Sanctions," which they define as being written out of a thing called 'The Book of Life'. They say that this doesn't just erase someone from existence-- it makes it so that they never existed at all in the first place.

While 'The Book of Life' (and a thing called 'The Book of The Damned') have a place in religions in our real life and are likely being alluded to a bit here, we know that GO puts its own, wonderfully subversive spin on things. More importantly, the scene between Crowley and Beez where Beez defines The Book of Life for us actually might tell us what the deal is with it already.

Crowley, upon hearing about The Book of Life as a threat, immediately tells Beez that there is actually no such thing. He says that they-- meaning the two of them-- made it up back in the day to tease more innocent angels. Crowley is confident of this fact when he's not always confident about his pre-fall recollections and, as a result, we're inclined to trust his opinion here, right? It's Crowley's doubt in himself that has caused us to start to complicate a thing that might actually be deceptively simple: it's not a thing.

We see the realization that Crowley is likely correct flicker on Beez's face when Crowley tells them that The Book of Life is not real... and then quickly disappear and be replaced by an attempt to gather their pride.

Both Beez and Crowley have faulty memories and many scenes in S2 show Crowley's struggle to recall some people and events from when he was an angel. Even if you think that Crowley plays with knowledge of this with other angels and demons (like with Furfur and/or Saraqael) and purposefully pretends to forget them, he admits to Gabriel near the end of S2 that he knows what Gabriel is going through from personal experience.

What Crowley is sure about, though, is a memory that he has of him and Beez teasing some angels and making up The Book of Life. Lord Beezlebub, though, doesn't have this memory. It's perhaps trauma-blocked for them, the way that many of Crowley's own have been and many still are.

When Crowley tells them that he's sure that The Book of Life is bullshit, we see a flicker of vulnerable horror pass over Beez's face for the briefest of moments before they double down and insist that, no, he has to be wrong, The Book of Life is real.

Why do they do this? Because they know that Crowley is likely correct and they're embarrassed.

Imagine being Beez, running Hell for all those years, and jumping to do whatever Heaven tells them to do to try to maintain order and stay alive, only to find out that the thing Heaven's threatening them with? It not only doesn't even exist but Beez themselves is one of the people who made it up. Heaven took Beez's memories and, with them, some of their sense of self, and then turned around and weaponized those memories against them. They've been frightening Beez half to death and making them do their bidding by threatening them with something they and Crowley once jokingly made up once while being silly and stupid.

That's... pretty dark, no?

Making matters worse? They once ordered Beez to try to kill their old friend, Crowley, and here he is in the present, the only person they can go to for help with finding the person they love before he's harmed even more by these same people who have hurt all of them... and Crowley remembers the friendship they once had more than Beez does. He has a kind of sweet memory of the two of them being friends and he's acting like one in the present by trying to look out for Beez through telling them the truth as much as he knows it. He's being kind to them...

Beez can't stand it. They don't think they deserve it and they feel like such a fool. If they admit the truth-- that they think Crowley's memory is correct and that they were wrong about The Book of Life-- then they're admitting that they were duped by Heaven for longer than anyone can count.

Would Crowley care about this or think lesser of them? No. He would empathize. It's not like he's not in the same boat as Beez, having also been harmed by Heaven and facing difficulties with his memories. He would understand and he'd continue to be kind about it... but Beez has their pride. Beez is embarrassed-- so, they double down. They change the course of the season as a result.

They tell Crowley that The Book of Life is a real thing and emphasize the threat. This causes Crowley to begin to doubt the validity of his own memory. It triggers his lack of trust in himself. He's already vulnerable about his memory but he was sure about this particular memory-- until Beez starts insisting that he's wrong. (To be fair to Beez, they both have such shit memories that it's easy to see how they'd both wind up operating under the assumptions that there's a real threat, even if talking more to one another and trying to figure it out together would have been the healthier way to handle it.)

Crowley thinks, well, Beez has run Hell for ages and surely they'd know more than him if Extreme Sanctions are a thing or not? He presumes that Beez has seen it done before, since they're insisting that it's real. He presumes that he's the one who is incorrect and, as a result, becomes convinced that Aziraphale is now risking his very existence to help Gabriel.

This then becomes Crowley's primary motivation for the whole season.

It's even eclipsed the terror he has over the idea of Aziraphale falling because, at least, if the worst happened and Aziraphale fell, he'd still be there. If Heaven erases Aziraphale from The Book of Life, though, according to Beez, Aziraphale will have never existed at all.

At thinking this a possibility, Crowley races back to the bookshop to help protect Gabriel as a way of trying to help protect Aziraphale. All season long, the threat of Aziraphale being The Book of Life'd looms large for Crowley. He even growls at Gabriel at one point that Aziraphale is risking "his existence" to help him. Gabriel also can't help Crowley determine if Extreme Sanctions are really a thing or not-- even if he likely would have been in a position to know previously-- because Gabriel's brain is experiencing technical difficulties and playing nothing but a Buddy Holly song for all of S2.

Crowley is also hesitant to tell Aziraphale about his fear of The Book of Life threat because he knows that Aziraphale is skating on the edge of a breakdown and that, while Aziraphale is strong overall, he is very, very fragile about the fact that Heaven abandoned him and no one has talked to him over the last four years until Gabriel showed up at the door.

Crowley also knows that Aziraphale is sensitive about the fact that all of what little information they can gather about what's doing in Heaven & Hell is coming from a demon Crowley knows because it highlights that, after all the years he gave Heaven, Aziraphale was left without anything remotely close to a friend up there, while Crowley still at least has a contact in a demon who needs him and his experience. That said demon also has a thing for Crowley adds further complications.

So, in an effort to not worsen things and to try to protect Aziraphale, Crowley doesn't tell him that Beez reached out to him for help because he doesn't want to tell Aziraphale that Beez needed him and that they had what is, for them, a fairly friendly chat. As a result of trying to keep that to himself, Crowley can't mention his terror over The Book of Life to Aziraphale.

This means he's alone with the thoughts of it for the season and his already high anxiety is worsened by the fact that seeing Gabriel's memory loss reminds him of his own frail memory, causing him to doubt himself more, and helping convince him that Beez was correct and they're all in massive trouble. He's not the only one trying to protect someone by not mentioning a threat to their existence, though...

The season goes on and Aziraphale goes to Edinburgh. On the way back, he lets Shax into The Bentley and Shax comments that she is "bemused that Crowley should risk his existence" to help Aziraphale. Aziraphale doesn't immediately question this as related to The Book of Life because he assumes that Shax means that Hell would destroy Crowley if they determined that he was involved-- that it's the same threat to Crowley's existence that has always existed. Still, it amps up his worry for Crowley's safety and when he gets back to London, he doesn't tell Crowley about his having met Shax.

Because Aziraphale doesn't bring this up, there is not an opportunity to for either of them to mention exactly how worried they are that the other might die over all of this. The subject of existence-- and how Crowley is worried that it ties to The Book of Life-- continues to not come up.

Fast forward to The Final Fifteen and now we have Michael in the bookshop living room, yelling that they're going to erase Aziraphale from The Book of Life. This is the first time in the season that Aziraphale has directly been confronted with the concept of Extreme Sanctions.

Michael, for their part, seems to genuinely believe in The Book of Life. We have several scenes earlier in the season showing Michael making a power grab in Gabriel's absence and tussling with Uriel over what little power either of them really do have. It's likely that, even if The Book of Life is a thing that does exist, Michael doesn't actually have the ability to erase anyone from existence. (Not even a fascist regime would be dumb enough to give that power to Michael lol.)

What could be the case, though, is that the angels are also told this is real from being the frightened cherubs back in the day lol and all presume that The Supreme Archangel must have the power to do this because, well, they're The Supreme Archangel. (Even if it's really The Metatron who runs the show.) Michael thinks that if they sound like they have the power, it's as good as actually having the power, and it will result in them being seen as Gabriel's replacement. You know the idea of acting as if you already have the job you want to get the job you want? Michael seems to be doing that in 2.06.

What's true, though, is that there is no evidence that Michael has ever seen a case of Extreme Sanctions in action, either... and there's also zero indication that The Metatron actually told Michael that they were authorized to do such a thing, if it does exist. The opposite, actually, seems to be true...

What we did see is The Metatron order Saraqael and Michael to find Gabriel without specifying how and that Michael then took it upon themselves to enlist Beez for assistance. At no point does using Extreme Sanctions seem to be anything but Michael's idea of a motivational tool to get Beez to help them find Gabriel (as Michael didn't know that Beez was already personally motivated to locate Gabriel... and then help keep him away from the angels).

So, we're saying that Michael doesn't actually know fuck all about fuck all where this topic is concerned and them threatening to use Extreme Sanctions doesn't actually mean that they exist. This is pretty heavily suggested by this scene here...

Whoever the being being played by Derek Jacobi who shows up at the bookshop in the middle of Michael's 2.06 tirade actually is-- Satan, The Metatron, Satan-in-The-Metatron, All of The Them standing on each other's shoulders in a Metatron suit, whoever-- Michael comes to believe that this is The Metatron... and this being whom Michael believes is The Metatron shuts down the idea that Michael could write someone out of The Book of Life hard.

While this can be seen as another type of power play-- shutting down Michael to establish that he's actually the most powerful person in the room and that being a low key threat to all of them, including both Michael and Aziraphale... it doesn't necessarily mean that this being is lying about The Book of Life.

For one thing? Michael, once told that the being in front of them is The Metatron, believes it, so, when whom they think is The Metatron tells them that what they're saying about The Book of Life is "utter balderdash-- I mean, complete piffle", Michael doesn't say anything that suggests confusion over that.

If The Metatron was the one out here authorizing Extreme Sanctions and telling Michael to threaten anyone helping Gabriel with erasure from The Book of Life, Michael would have started to splutter here and said something along the lines of 'but, but, Daaaad, you said I could?!' lol. Instead, they appear to just be embarrassed to have been caught out threatening something they can't actually do. This furthers the suggestion that, not only can Michael not actually do it, they've probably never seen it done-- adding to the suggestion that The Book of Life is not actually a thing.

Complicating matters is that, for their own safety, Beez and Gabriel are gone by this point in the story-- and Gabriel has his memories back. If Gabriel had still been in the bookshop at this point, he could have made it clear that Michael didn't have the power to do that and he might have also been able to tell Crowley and Aziraphale that The Book of Life isn't real, provided he knew the truth about it. One of the reasons to pull Gabriel from the story prior to this, from a writing standpoint, would be to take away a character who could provide Crowley with that knowledge because the point of Crowley having been panicked about it all season is to lead to it affecting how he views the events in this episode and the plan he makes and tries to convey to Aziraphale in the pivotal "no nightingales" scene. You could argue one of the reasons to wait so long for Gabriel to get his memories back in the story is for this purpose-- any sooner and there would have been time to tell Crowley the truth and then you wouldn't have Crowley trying to save Aziraphale from non-existence in 2.06 by suggesting the only thing he can think of that might keep that from happening (which we'll look at in another meta about that scene.)

Because "The Metatron" shuts Michael up about The Book of Life, Aziraphale puts it on simmer in the back of his mind because, as he goes with "The Metatron", he has other, more devilish, concerns on his mind. There is evidence in 2.06 to suggest that, by the time he's come back to the shop after talking with "The Metatron", that he's pretty convinced that there is a strong possbility that this is really Satan and that he could be falling/about to fall.

He tries to convey this to Crowley but Crowley is not only blocked from seeing it because Satan can influence him-- like he did to prompt Crowley into identifying him as The Metatron-- but because Crowley still thinks the bigger threat is The Book of Life. He's still worried that he can't trust his own mind and that Beez was correct. In reality, though, all of the bells and whistles and noise about The Book of Life serves as a distraction from the real threat, which is Aziraphale falling. This influences what plan Crowley comes up with a bit while Aziraphale is with "The Metatron" because his motivation is to keep Aziraphale from being written out of existence.

Now, sure, it's possible that Heaven went and invented The Book of Life and made it a real weapon after it had just originally been a thing Beez and Crowley made up but if you look at what it's supposed to do, it's easy to see how unlikely that actually is. Why?

Because Heaven is a fascist regime run by The Metatron so the goal is always for him to maintain control over his little empire thing here and Extreme Sanctions? It's actually the exact opposite of that. We all know about the butterfly effect-- the idea that a single butterfly flapping its wings in one moment of time, if altered, would cause a ripple effect of other things to be altered that basically changes the course of the known universe, right? If Heaven really were to make it so that even just one of their angels were made to have never existed at all, they've essentially created a parallel universe. While those might likely exist, actively making them is not at all the goal of a character like The Metatron, who has a hard enough time keeping his own regime in line in this present universe.

There's also the question of the fact that this would be erasing one of God's creations in a way that reverses Her decision to have ever created them in the first place and I highly, highly doubt that The Metatron actually has the power to do that, let alone any of the other angels. That feels very "only God could ever do this and She has no desire to" to me.

Beyond that, there's how Crowley phrased it to Beez: "It's just something we used to joke about to frighten the cherubs."

On a show with language this deliberate and that uses the etymological histories of words as part of telling its story, it seems worth pointing out that the origin of the word 'joke' is basically wordplay itself. This would seem like a suggestion to look at the wordplay that sits there in the phrase "Extreme Sanctions" because this very dark-sounding thing can also have a more positive connotation.

While sanctions are a penalty imposed for breaking a rule or an agreement or a law, to sanction something can have one of two extremely different meanings. One is to enforce the penalties we're talking about but the other is the exact opposite of that-- it's to give an official stamp of approval for an action.

Those who are helping keep Gabriel safe from The Metatron in S2 are threatened with "Extreme Sanctions" by Heaven... as in extreme punishment... but they'll likely be met with extreme sanctions by God... as in, God approves of them working together to protect Gabriel and of the actions they'll take as a result of what they learn by doing so.

God's like great job, you guys, extreme sanctions for real, keep it up, now go free the others 👍👍👍make it happen, make it real, kids, let's fucking go... it's not coincidental that I sent you the angel whose name means "messenger" to tell you that I'm giving this whole plot some extreme sanctions here...

You want to erase someone from The Book of Life? Ironically, from what we've seen, besides God, only Crowley himself could probably do that because doing so would alter the makeup of the universe he created and completed with Aziraphale's help.

This is the literal Book of Life:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens theory #good omens speculation #lord beezlebub #the archangel fucking gabriel #the metatron #michael good omens

[arctrooper69]

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Chapter 16:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Heavy whump. Blood, broken bones, needles, battlefield medicine.

--------------------------------------------------

It felt like just a moment had passed. Something had pulled you ruthlessly back into a waking existence.

Noises. In the darkness above. That familiar voice.

Hunter?

Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe you were imaging things once again. It was so easy to lose yourself out here alone.

But what if it really is him?

Fear sprang through your chest, cracking and sizzling with electricity. Hunter couldn’t be here - not on this moon where the awful randomness of electromagnetic frequencies would surely overwhelm his senses, knocking them out as easily as they jammed any coms signal coming from the surface. It would no doubt leave him dizzy, and nauseous.

Nothing he hadn’t trained for.

The rocks that fell and bounced into the dust made it real. It was no longer a dream now.

Hunter.

Someone called your name from above. The sound echoed, dull and muffled, barely able to penetrate the haze of pain and unfocus. It was several minutes before you were able to wrench yourself from that awful dreamlike state.

“Here…” the frailty of the call surprised you, injured ribs balking, at the sudden movement of speech, drawing a sharp, sobbing gasp at the renewing of that awful hurt.

Silence. Had he heard? Had the cry for help been only in your mind - allowing you a cruel mockery of hope.

A clamor of ropes and rappelling gear.

“Hold on, I'm coming down.”

“...kay” You wanted to say more - to yell at him that there might be mercenaries still out there waiting. You wanted to scream at him to leave and save himself from this awful place, but that blessed feeling of relief swept coldly through your trembling body as he descended.

“Are you okay!?”

“N-not really….”

“Okay.”

He was calm - strong and assuredly in his element despite the awful electromagnetic disturbances that were most likely drilling through his brain not unlike the pain that wracked your own body. His well trained eyes most certainly scanned the environment, getting a read-out of your vitals, and clocking various points for extraction all within seconds.

He knows what he's doing. He's here.

That palatable relief tasted sweet, bringing tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. You couldn't stop them if you wanted to.

“Whoa, hey…” he soothed, falling to his knees, helmeted eyes surveying the way you shivered and curled inwards, protecting ribs that he suspected were either broken or badly bruised. The shallow, too quick breaths drew his concern, as did the unnatural angle of your right leg.

One thing at a time.

Though you'd managed to mostly staunch the flow of blood, it still leaked slowly, dripping into a slowly growing puddle. The sickening gleam of white stood offensively, angling awkward and wrong.

“I'm going to keep my helmet on so I can see, okay?”

You nodded, forgetting that the HUD provided him with infrared night vision - not perfect by any means, but it was something to combat the constant damp, twilight. It probably helped filter most of the noise too.

He shrugged the pack from his shoulders, placing it beside him, and drew out two small, gray-capped syringes from a pouch on his belt.

“Alright, this might hurt a little but it'll help with the pain and slow the bleeding, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes, giving up on stopping the tears that dripped silently into the ground. Anything was better than the nauseating waves of agony throbbing through your ribs with every breath, shooting daggers up your leg. It was more than just the physical pain that drew your tears. Shame weighed you down, drawing around your chest with a grip so tight it became impossible to know where it ended and the physical pain began.

You couldn't even do a simple job on your own. The inner, mocking voice only served to tighten the shame that locked around your chest.

It's embarrassing really. Imagine how pathetic you look lying here crying in the dirt. Mission failure. What a failure.

“Hey, look at me.” Gloved fingers touched your face and you opened your eyes. You hadn't even noticed how he'd already discarded the drugs and drew the medkit up beside him.

“You okay?” The modulated voice held concern and you wished you could see his eyes.

Those perfect dark eyes, narrowed in a focused concentration, so observant, seeing everything around him. His eyebrows would be drawn downwards in concern; lips pursed in ever moving thought. He was the epitome of a confidence born from a lifetime of training and experience, yet a sliver of doubt would be lingering just below the skin.

You knew that face well.

“Hurts…” the single word sliding over numb lips felt weak - shameful. A poor excuse for an answer to a voice like his. You could hear him breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

“I know. It should get better in a few. Give the meds some time to kick in. You'll be able to breathe a little better too.”

You nodded, once again closing your eyes.

“Hey now, none of that.” He tapped your cheek again. “Come on, you gotta stay with me, okay? I'm gonna need your help in a minute. Think you can do that?”

Your head swam. All you wanted to do was close your eyes and give into that cold and dizzy pool of relief. Spots danced across your vision, threatening to grow with every nauseating thud of your heart. You were sure you wouldn't be of any help to anybody anytime soon. “I… dunno…”

“Just breathe. Nice and slow. Can't have you passing out on me just yet.”

He was right. You thought. Breathing did come easier with that sliver of relief the painkiller provided.

“Hunter, I'm sorry…” your voice cracked.

He inhaled slowly, feeling his chest tighten and grow heavy once more in that strange mixture of contradicting emotion. He hurt because you hurt - heart weighted by the crack of your voice that vainly hid the pain. Yet a sense of relief had pierced him so strongly when he’d heard your voice from the depths. Alive. She’s alive.

A silence floated for seconds with baited breath, both waiting for a reply, hoping for that emotion ladened acceptance but expecting nothing.

All he wanted to do was hold you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair. He wished desperately to tell you that everything would be alright - that you’d be safe, and that he’d get you out of there. He would bear all of your pain without a second thought if it only meant you’d be with him forever.

He took another breath, forcing himself to exhale. No, he scolded, forcing himself to let go of the fantasy. No time. Focus. Breathe.

He turned away. “I’m gonna take a look at your leg, okay?”

You nodded, numb to everything but the fact that he’d ignored you.

What have I done?

Hunter exhaled as he knelt by your leg, gently using his fingers to further rip the bloodsoaked fabric past the knee, stopping at mid thigh. You shivered. Hunter was quiet as he placed a hand on your other leg with a reassuring squeeze.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do.” He took a breath, not sure if he meant to calm his own nerves or you. He looked up, “We’ve got to splint this before I can get you out of here. The painkiller I gave you should take the edge off, but I’m not gonna lie to you,” he grimaced, “ this probably isn’t gonna feel great, but I’ll try to be as quick as I can.”

“Ok… just do it.”

He nodded, “Alright, try to stay still for me, sweetheart.”

Hunter paused for a nanosecond. Sweetheart? There wasn’t time to work out that slip of the tongue. He shook his head at the momentary lapse before turning to the task at hand.

He took a calming breath, watching as you nervously hugged yourself, gripping tightly at your own upper arms, desperate for any kind of comforting hold. It burned, deep inside his chest at the knowledge of the coming hurt he had no choice but to inflict. He squeezed the good leg once again.

“Okay, here we go.”

You had already done a decent job, packing gauze into the cavity beneath the bone, but now it was slowly beginning to saturate, scarlet blood leaking in slow rivets down the skin.

Grabbing another wad of gauze, he didn’t hesitate upon pressing it into the wound bit by bit, probing deeper into the gap where bone had once been. Muscles tensed beneath his fingers, locking up stiff and still in an autonomic and desperate attempt to stay any movement that might cause further pain. A guttural cry ripped from your throat, barely muffled by the fabric of your shirt clenched deathly tight between teeth through which he knew you were so desperately trying to fight the urge to scream at him, begging him to stop, that it hurt too much to go on.

I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, he wanted to say. He wanted desperately to plead for forgiveness but he bit his lip in that steadfast determination of what must be done. It broke his heart, the way you fought your own body for control as it arced and jerked longing to be free of this torment. Tears streamed through eyes screwed so tightly shut, veins in your neck bulging and shoulders moving in erratic attempts to breathe through the pain.

“You’re doing great, cyar'ika,” he soothed, “you’re doing so good. Almost done.”

Hunter’s voice felt so far away, hidden amongst the starbursts of burning white that flashed behind your eyes - nearly inaudible among the molten lava screaming so loudly you could feel it in every bone.

So great, cyar'ika. So good. You clung to that deep sincerity which came echoing from a distance the rumble of thunder before a storm. Almost done. Almost done. I’ve got you. It’s okay.

It was the only thing keeping you afloat like a lifevest in this whirlpool of icy fire that spun in a never ending confusion of flaying nerves and nothingness.

The last pull, securing resting bone onto thoroughly packed gauze brought a strange relief to the sharp, ever invading cold.

“All done. You did good.” Warm fingers gently weaving themselves through your hair pulled you ever closer to that voice you longed so badly to return to.

--------------------------------------------------

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[corroded-hellfire]

Hello 👋🏻 for pre Eliza #ayw requests

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e0Y8tmRYYiA

I saw this video and it gave me an idea for As You Wish……Eddie and Reader take younger Ryan and Luke to a real life Hot Wheels show. I think this would blow Luke’s mind and Ryan’s brain would be trying to work out how it works. 🙂

Luke would LOVE THIS. It makes me so happy that you saw this and thought of him! I was trying to think of something for Luke’s birthday and this is just absolutely perfect for it. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Words: 5.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

When Eddie first came across the advertisement for the Real-Life Hot Wheels Show in Indianapolis, he immediately knew that he wanted to take his youngest son to it. Both sons, of course, but the youngest is crazier about the small toy cars by far. 

When Eddie saw that this show happened to be two days before Luke’s birthday, it felt like fate. The little boy’s fifth birthday was on Monday, and Saturday just happened to be the day of the big event in the big city about an hour away. Eddie immediately snatched up the phone and dialed the number printed in large, bold orange letters on the bottom of the flyer to purchase four tickets. 

In March, when the tickets had been purchased, Brittany had said there would be no problem with her coming along with her three boys to celebrate the special day. But as the week of Luke’s birthday in May approaches, suddenly, her tone has changed.

“What do you want me to say, Eddie?” Brittany gripes. “I have to work.”

“You had plenty of time to get the day off!”

“Maybe you should’ve reminded me a little sooner,” she snaps back.

“Wouldn’t think I’d have to fucking remind you when your son’s birthday is.”

Now Eddie has an extra ticket that he isn’t sure what to do with. Wayne wouldn’t be able to sit on the metal bleachers because of his back. Steve wouldn’t want to go while his sons are left behind at home. And it wouldn’t be fair to bring just one of the Harrington sons and not the other. Plus, there is no way that Eddie would be able to handle both of his boys plus a Harrington kid all on his own. 

There’s someone Eddie wants to invite to be the fourth person, but he’s not sure if it would be appropriate or not to bring it up. Thankfully, Ryan adores you almost as much as his father does, and practically asks the question for him. 

“Daddy!” Ryan stage whispers the moment Eddie walks through the door after work the Monday before Luke’s birthday. 

The older man raises an eyebrow at his son as he tosses his keys down on the small table he passes on his way into the living room. He kicks his black chunky boots off and scratches at his scruff with dirt-stained fingertips.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Eddie asks. 

Ryan looks around to make sure Luke is still in the bathroom. 

“I had an idea for Luke’s birthday!”

Before Eddie gets the chance to inquire further, you stroll in from the kitchen and Eddie finds himself smiling like a teenager with a secret crush. The cuffs of your denim shorts that brush the middle of your thighs are so tempting to stare at, but Eddie forces himself to keep his eyes on your face—though that’s no hard feat with how gorgeous he finds you. 

“Hey, Eddie,” you greet, and your boss feels as if he could melt on the spot just by the sound of your voice. “How was work?”

“You know,” he says with a shrug, trying to shake off any trace of fluster, “same old, same old. How were the rugrats?”

“Little Tasmanian devils,” you tease. 

“Afraid that comes with the last name ‘Munson,’” Eddie says with a dramatic sigh. His words make you giggle and a fluttering in his stomach threatens to take Eddie airborne. 

“Daddy!” Ryan rasps again, this time a little more urgently. He marches over to his father who picks him up and holds him against his toned jumpsuit-clad chest.

“What?”

“I think I know who should come with us on Saturday,” Ryan says, a smile that’s a blend of mischievous and prideful lighting up his face.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” Eddie asks.

Instead of responding verbally, Ryan turns his head until he’s grinning in your direction. The conversation between the two Munsons clearly confuses you as Eddie watches you tilt your head and raise your eyebrows in question.

“What’s Saturday?”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, but a loud pitter-patter coming down the hallway has the man clamping shut to avoid spoiling the surprise. 

“Daddy!” Luke cheers as he runs into the room.

“There’s the troublemaker,” Eddie says as Ryan wiggles down from his arms. Luke’s quick to be his older brother’s replacement, diving in towards Eddie, trusting that his father will catch him. He does, of course, and hefts the small boy up. “What’s new, Scooby Doo?”

“Nothin’,” Luke says with a shrug. “Oh, wait. I ate an ant off the sidewalk during playground time.”

Eddie stares at his youngest son, blinking a few times before asking, “What color?”

“Black.”

“Okay, you’re fine,” Eddie says, putting the boy down. 

“That’s gross,” Ryan says as his little brother walks up to him.

Eddie shakes his head, in amusement or bemusement you’re not sure, and subtly gestures for you to follow him into the kitchen. It’s hard not to trip over your own feet as you move behind your boss. You’d follow him to Jupiter and back if he asked. 

“So, uh,” Eddie starts softly once the two of you are alone in the kitchen, “Saturday we’re going to Indianapolis for a real-life Hot Wheels show.”

The way your eyes light up with excitement has Eddie’s heart thumping against his ribs.

“Oh, he’s going to love that!” you gush. 

His responding dopey grin momentarily stalls Eddie’s train of thought before he remembers Ryan’s suggestion.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe my luck when I found the ad for it. But, uh, turns out Brittany can’t get out of work for it.”

You hope you’re able to keep some of the fury blazing in your eyes hidden from your boss. Sometimes it’s a challenge to hold your tongue about Brittany around Eddie—that’s why your poor roommate gets an earful of it almost every day when you come home. 

“Ryan, he just, um, had a great idea,” Eddie continues. His tongue darts out and licks over his lips. “Would you be interested in coming with the three of us on Saturday? I know it’s last minute, so there’s no worry if you can’t. Or if it’s not your thing, I get that too.”

“Eddie,” you say with a soft chuckle. 

The sound vibrates through his body, liquefying his heart on the spot. 

“I would love to go with you guys and celebrate Luke’s birthday.”

Technically, you do have plans for a lunch date with your friend Lily that you’ll have to cancel, but there’s no way you can pass up this opportunity to spend extra time with the Munson men—especially Eddie. 

A sigh of release emanates from Eddie’s chest, and he gives you a grin that makes your knees weak.

“Great. It’s a surprise for Luke, so he doesn’t know anything is going on this weekend. I’m not even going to tell him even when we’re in the car on the way to Indianapolis; I’m too excited for the look on his face when he sees the real-life tracks and cars.”

“He’s going to lose his tiny mind,” you say.

“He is,” Eddie agrees with a hearty laugh. 

“Do you want me to come by on Saturday or do you want to pick me up on the way?” you ask.

Originally, Eddie had just figured that you would come to the house, but the thought of having your address is too tempting for him to give up. Not that he’ll ever do anything with the information, but just to get a peek behind the curtain into your life, a glimpse at where you start and end your days. 

“We can pick you up,” Eddie says, trying his best to be casual. “That’ll be another fun little pit stop for Luke.”

“Perfect. Here, let me give you my address.”

“This is where you live!” Luke exclaims as soon as you slip into the passenger seat of Eddie’s car. 

“It is!” You turn to look at the boys over your shoulder and give them a smile. 

“Do you live on the tippy top?” Luke asks, pointing out the car window to the highest level of your building. 

“Nope, just the second floor,” you tell him as you buckle your seatbelt. 

“Not as fun,” Ryan laments.

“Will someone please tell me where we’re going?” Luke whines five minutes after Eddie has pulled out of your apartment complex parking lot. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Eddie raises his eyebrows and looks at his youngest son through the rearview mirror.

Luke’s bright blue eyes turn skyward, and he lets out a huff that makes it sound like he’s deflating. 

“It’s a surprise.” Luke’s voice is the most monotone you’ve ever heard it.

“Exactly. And no one is going to spoil the surprise,” Eddie says as he pulls onto the highway. “So quit asking.”

He doesn’t, of course. He asks four more times over the course of the journey. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes a little over an hour, but it passes by in a flash with the constant entertainment of the Munson trio you’re traveling with. Luke’s insatiable curiosity about anything and everything only takes breaks to give out tidbits of information that he already knows. Many times, Ryan tries to get his little brother to shut up so that he can talk to you as well. And Eddie is the King of Wit as he makes you laugh with comebacks to the boys, and jokes that make your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It’s almost a disappointment when you have to get out of the car with them. At least you know you’ll have the ride home to experience this Munson brand of insanity once more. 

The moment Eddie puts the car into park, you keep your gaze on Luke. He’s straining in his seat to look out the window, anxious for any clue as to where he is. He’s the first one to unhook his seatbelt and hops out of the car, immediately squinting in the bright sunlight.

“It’s hot,” Ryan says as he steps out of the car. 

“Jesus, you’re right,” Eddie agrees. The man reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a black hair tie. You can’t help but be mesmerized as you watch him bunch his beautiful curls up and tie them into a bun on the back of his head. Small strands of hair frame his face and you feel all the blood in your body drop to between your legs. 

At least if I pass out I can blame it on the heat instead of how unfairly fucking good my boss looks, you think to yourself. 

“What is this place?” Luke asks. He has one small hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he swivels on the spot, looking for any clues to solve this puzzle.

“Come on,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards the stadium at the other end of the parking lot. He offers his hand to his youngest son who happily takes it, eager to get whatever show this is on the road.

Ryan slips his hand into yours, which makes your insides feel as warm as your outside as the two of you trail behind Eddie and Luke. 

The closer you get to the entrance, the more you notice people wearing shirts with the Hot Wheels logo on them, but you’re hoping Luke either doesn’t notice or just thinks it’s a coincidence. The four-year-old still seems to be buzzing with anticipation when Eddie hands four tickets to the attendant who lets you through the entry way into the stadium. 

A cool, shaded tunnel is all that separates you from the main event and you’re pretty sure your excitement is greater than the kids’. Eddie looks over his shoulder at you and gives you a wink. You know it’s meant as a signal to watch for Luke’s reaction, but it sends goosebumps all over your body and you stumble over nothing as Eddie turns back around.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, his hand securely in yours so that you wouldn’t fall. 

“I’m good,” you say, shakiness evident in your voice. 

Quickly, you make sure to turn your attention to Luke. Just as he’s about to step back into the sunlight with his father, you take a deep breath and hold it.

Eddie brings Luke out into the stadium proper, you and Ryan right behind them. It takes Luke a few minutes to absorb what he sees. 

In the middle of the stadium are twin life-size Hot Wheels loops, orange as bright as flames. At the beginning of each track, sit two empty racecars, both designed to look like the pocket-sized toys the youngest Munson brother collects. The one on the left looks like cans of paint were thrown on the car. Splotches of neon green, white, and a little bit of black cover the car from nose to fin. The car on the next track looks painted with more intention than its counterpart. This one has a base coat of canary yellow with dark red and blue flames emblazoned on the hood, roof, and trunk. Both cars have the signature Hot Wheels logo on the sides, in the dramatic red flourish. 

Once Luke’s brain catches up with what he sees in front of him, his eyes grow exponentially wider. Matching grins appear on both your and Eddie’s faces as you watch it all sink in for the little boy. 

“Whoa,” Luke says, eyes darting everywhere. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks, shaking his son’s hand gently.

Luke gazes around for another few seconds before looking back at his dad.

“I love it!”

Luke pulls his hand from his dad’s and jumps up and down on the spot, his little hands curling into fists that he holds against his chest. A high-pitched whine of excitement squeaks out and you can’t help but chuckle. His glee is palpable and seeing him so happy is infectious. 

“It’s Hot Wheels!” Luke turns to his brother and repeats himself. “Ryan, it’s Hot Wheels!”

“I know!” Ryan says, an elated grin on his own face. “Isn’t it so cool?”

“Yes!” Luke squeaks.

“Come on,” Eddie says, his large hand gently patting Luke’s back. “Let’s go find our seats.”

One downfall of it being such a hot day in Indiana is that the aluminum bleachers that you’re allocated to are toasty even through the material of your shorts. 

“Does anyone want some water?” you ask once you’re all settled.

“Me,” both boys say.

“I’ll come with you,” Ryan says. 

You gladly accept his offer and take his hand as the two of you venture off to find water.

On the bleachers, Luke squirms in his seat next to Eddie, so excited he can hardly stand it. The little boy tugs on the sleeve of his dad’s t-shirt and Eddie looks over at him.

“I’m so happy!”

Eddie chuckles, his heart growing three sizes at seeing his son this way. Luke’s generally a happy kid, but this euphoria is a whole different level for him, and Eddie realizes he would’ve driven to Alaska for this if it meant putting that smile on his son’s face.

“I can tell,” Eddie says. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m glad I found something fun for your birthday.”

“And I’m so happy I’m here with you guys!” Luke continues.

Eddie for the first time realizes neither of his sons questioned why their mother wasn’t coming with them today. No wondering why she didn’t get in the car, why she wasn’t here with the rest of the family. And neither of the boys seem to mind one bit. In fact, Luke just said he’s happy to be here with the three of you. Not his mom, but you here with them. Honestly, Eddie couldn’t agree more. He’s not about to spend his son’s birthday celebration psychoanalyzing what that means, though.

“We’re all so happy to be here with you,” Eddie says. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Luke’s curls. They’re slightly sweaty but neither of them cares. 

A loudspeaker crackles to life and an announcer with a booming, lively voice asks the crowd if they’re ready to have a good time today. 

“Our drivers today are Buzzy Graham and Oliver Ronald!”

The first man—Buzzy—gives the crowd a wave and jogs over to the splotchy looking car. He straps a neon green helmet on and climbs into the life-sized toy vehicle through the driver’s side window. The second driver, Oliver, also gives a wave and a smile as he makes his way over to the car painted with flames. An indigo helmet gets strapped to his head, and he slips inside of his car as well. 

The moment the show starts, and Luke hears the first revving of an engine, he’s on his feet. His hands are clenched in excitement again as he waits with bated breath for the cars to get into gear. The kid has put his cars through tracks just like these a hundred times before, now he’s ready to see the real thing in action. 

The buzz of the crowd dims as the hundreds of people in attendance wait for the show to begin. Finally, the purr of an engine sounds above all other noise and Luke clasps his hands together with an excited gasp. Ryan is also full of anticipation, sitting at the very edge of his seat and watching with eyes almost as wide as his little brother’s. 

Over the speaker, a countdown begins.

“3…2…1!”

Both cars go full throttle across the checkered starting line. Luke intakes a sharp breath and Eddie can’t help but notice it doesn’t come out right away as he watches the two cars speed along down the orange track. 

The cars approach the first loop and every muscle in Luke’s tiny body is frozen as he watches in anticipation. Ryan also has his eyes glued to the cars, but his is more of a fascination of how the cars don’t fall while they’re upside down in the loop. 

“How did they…” you just barely hear Ryan say to himself over the roar of the audience. 

Now that the cars are out of the loop, they’re coming up on the jump over a shallow ravine, to the other side of the continuing neon track, where the finish line is. 

The Splotch and The Flames both start their small incline to prepare them for the jump, and Luke’s hands go up to grab the curls on top of his head. This is possibly the most stress the kid has ever endured in his life. At least it’s the good kind, Eddie can tell. 

“Here we go,” Eddie says just as the cars are about to be airborne.

And suddenly, there’s nothing beneath the spinning black wheels but dust and air as they soar over the pass between the two disconnected parts of the track. Luke swears it all moves in slow motion. 

The rubber tires of the splotchy car touch down on the other side of the ravine first, bumping and jostling the car forward as the flames one lands a split second after it. 

The end of the track is only yards away, so the splotchy car has the upper hand and is the first one to cross over the black and white finish line.

“WOO!” Luke cheers. His hands come free from his mess of curls and he throws his arms up in the air. “Yes!”

“Wow!” Ryan stands up and claps his hands, cheering alongside his little brother. 

“Daddy, did you see that?!” Luke asks, turning his wide-eyed gaze on his father. “That was the coolest thing ever!”

The genuine excitement and happiness wafting off of, not only Luke, but Ryan too, has Eddie grinning ear to ear as he nods in response to the small boy. Eddie would absolutely agree that this is the coolest thing ever. But not for the same reasons his sons do. 

The tracks are cleaned and reset a number of times, letting different cars and different drivers take their turns. But none of the excitement will ever live up to that initial race to Ryan and Luke. Seeing those real-life Hot Wheels in motion for the first time blew their little minds. By the end, you and Eddie are both watching the boys more than the show in front of you. 

Once the last race has been run and the show has come to its end, it’s clear all the excitement and sitting out in the heat have worn the boys out—-Eddie and you too, if you were being honest. The sun is setting now and it gives you a reprieve from the heat as you head back to the car.

“So, kiddo,” Eddie says, gently shaking Luke’s hand where he holds it in his own. “Where should we stop off on the way home to grab a birthday cake?”

“I get cake today, too?” Luke asks, voice rising higher in pitch the further he gets in the question. “Awesome!”

Eddie was planning to get a second cake for Luke’s actual birthday on Monday, but guilt gnaws in his head. You won’t be there on Monday, and Brittany will.  You’ll be the one who remembers his birthday wish, always said aloud despite Ryan’s reminder to keep it a secret. 

Since you can’t be there when Luke blows out the candles on Monday, Eddie ensures that he’ll have a cake today as well. The happier cake, Eddie bitterly thinks.

“Dairy Queen!” Luke announces as everyone piles into the car. 

“Nice choice,” Eddie commends, raising his eyebrows. 

“I love those little crunchy things in the middle of the ice cream layers,” Luke elaborates as he buckles himself into his seatbelt. “They look like little clumps of dirt but taste like little nuggets from Heaven!” 

You and Eddie share an amused smile as he slips the key into the ignition and starts the car. 

“Oooh!” Ryan says, twisting in his seat to look out the back windshield. It’s dark now, but he knows it’s the general direction of where the stadium is. “Can we take our car on the Hot Wheels track?”

Luke gasps in excitement and joins in the begging.

“Please? Just once?”

“Guys, we can’t just drive on to the track,” Eddie says, shaking his head in amusement. Though he will admit to himself, that sounds like it would be so much fuckin’ fun. “Professionals drive those cars. Cars that are specifically made to do that kind of stuff.”

“Yeah,” you add, turning around in your seat to face the boys as Eddie pulls out of the parking space. “And I don’t know about you, but if I went upside down like that, I would feel too sick to have any delicious Dairy Queen ice cream cake.”

You’re aware your words are most likely untrue, but it gets the boys thinking about the sweet treat again rather than wanting to go perform professional stunts in the dark with no supervision. 

There’s a drug store right in front of the first Dairy Queen you come across on the drive home, so you run in there to grab some birthday candles while Eddie and the boys get a cake. 

You meet them at an outside table where Eddie is carefully removing the vanilla-frosted cake from the box. While he takes care of that, you unload the bag of supplies you bought at the drugstore. Sure, Dairy Queen had paper plates to eat off of, but there’s no way they had ones as cool as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle ones you found. 

“Ahhh!” Luke’s face lights up when he sees the package of plates and happily takes them from you so he can rip the plastic off. 

Of course, the matching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle napkins were a necessity as well. But with everything that Luke likes, there’s no way you could stick with one theme when you saw the party supply aisle. 

Next, out come the Scooby Doo party hats and matching noise makers. Ryan giggles as you situate his hat atop his dark golden curls and adjust the strap below his chin. Unsurprisingly, Luke went for a noise maker first, which has Eddie giving you a fake glare. With a soft giggle, you give him an innocent shrug in return.

Scooping up another cardboard cone hat, you step closer to Eddie and slide it on him. If you’re being honest with yourself, this is mostly just an excuse to touch him. The backs of your fingers lightly brush against his stubble as you hook the string on his strong jaw. His hair is still tied back, but that gives you the perfect opportunity to fix the strands of hair that frame his face when they get shifted from securing the hat. 

The moment the pads of your fingers make contact with the soft tendrils of hair, a pleasant chill runs down your spine. Doe eyes watch your face as you arrange small sections of his fly away hairs, but you don’t dare meet his eye. There’s no way you’d be able to keep all the emotions you try to keep bottled up inside from broadcasting across your face like a scroll sign in Times Square. 

You clear your throat and take a step back. Trying to will all heat away from your face, you slip on your own Scooby Doo party hat, make sure Luke is wearing his, then tear open the package of candles you bought. The frozen frosting on top of the cake has thawed a bit from being outside in the Indiana evening heat, but it still takes a little effort to stab five green striped candles around the edges of the cake, and one white one in the middle for luck.  

Eddie slips a silver lighter out of his pocket and leans in until there’s a small flame dancing on top of each candle’s wick. 

“Okay,” Eddie says as he slips the zippo back into his pocket. He moves to stand behind Luke, gently resting his hands on his son's shoulders. “One, two, three…”

A chorus of Happy Birthday to You begins and Luke’s gleeful face is illuminated even brighter by the fire casting its light. 

“…happy birthday, dear Luuu-uuuke. Happy birthday to you!”

“Make a wish, sweetheart,” you tell him.

“But don’t say it out loud!” Ryan reminds him, a hint of anger in his voice letting you know this is a regular occurrence. 

Luke’s lips form a pucker as he thinks. The gears churning in his head are practically visible as he casts his gaze upward, then downward. Then, his eyes flit to his father behind him, then over to you. A smile that you could only describe as hopeful slowly grows on Luke’s lips as he leans in towards the cake. The almost-five-year-old takes a deep inhale in through the nose, then blows all his candles out in one shot. 

The smoke curls into the air and disappears as you and Eddie clap your hands now that Luke made his wish. 

The cold cake is the perfect dessert to be eating outside on a warm summer-but-not-technically-summer-yet night. The vanilla and chocolate ice cream along with the crispy, crunchy pieces in the middle are the perfect way to end such a lovely day. 

You’ve never had a day out with the Munson men like this before. Something deep inside of you wonders if all of this was a good thing or bad thing, though. Because before you didn’t know what you were missing. Now, you know how it feels to spend time with them as a person—not an employee. Just as a friend to Eddie—-and okay, maybe still like a babysitter to the kids. But it’s so different than just being in the Munson house until Eddie comes home, get paid, then leave. This was time together. And it was one of the best times you’ve ever had. 

“You’ll always have the memory of today,” you whisper to yourself as you walk away from the guys to throw away empty plates and used napkins. “Even if I never get another day like this again, I’ll always have the memory of this one and how nice it feels to spend time with them. All of them.”

You take a deep breath walking back towards everyone, mentally composing yourself so you don’t give away that you’re getting caught up in your own head. 

“We ready to get back on the road?” Eddie asks, patting his front pocket that holds the keys. 

“Yes—oh. One second. Luke?” You chuckle and take a seat down at the table. When the little boy looks at you, you gesture for him to come over to you. “It’s a good thing I didn’t throw away all the napkins.”

There’s ice cream all over Luke’s face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had been trying to devour it by osmosis. 

“How did you get chocolate in your eyebrow?” you ask with a chuckle as you gently rub at the area above his eye. After one more once over, everything looks good—nice and clean. “There we go.”

“Thank you!” Luke leans in and pecks your cheek before spinning around and heading towards the car. 

The small display of affection has you giddy as you follow behind him. It’s the little moments where you realize that they love you right back that turn you into a puddle on the floor. But you’d happily stay that way if it meant the boys love you even half as much as you love them. 

Despite the recent sugar rush, it doesn’t take long once you get on the road again for the boys to fall asleep. Soft snores come from one of them, but it’s impossible to tell who since they’ve somehow come to sleep with their heads resting up against one another’s. 

It leaves no room for you and Eddie to talk, but you don’t mind. Companionable silence with Eddie is comfortable, there’s no urge to fill the silence with some small talk or forced conversation. It’s relaxing even, to sit next to Eddie and just be. There’s nothing you have to do, nothing to worry about, it’s just you sitting next to Eddie while the beauty of Indiana at dusk rushes by outside the windows. As much as you don’t want to think about it, you could definitely get used to this. 

When Eddie pulls up to your apartment complex, you almost want to be a child and beg for one more ride around the block. The boys are still sleeping and the only sound is from the crickets chirping outside as Eddie kills the engine.

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you say. “I really had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, those cars were pretty cool, huh?” Eddie asks with a soft chuckle as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. 

“Oh, no. Well, I mean, yes, they were, but I didn’t just mean them. I had a lot of fun hanging out with the three of you.” If your wife bails on you again, just let me know, you think, but almost laugh to yourself when you realize you need to correct it. WHEN your wife bails on you. 

“I had a really great time, too,” Eddie says. “I always have a great time with my boys. But you made it even more fun.”

Heat rushes to your face and you instinctively avert your gaze and duck your head. 

One of the boys lets out a whopper of a snore and it startles both you and Eddie, who let out soft matching chuckles at your own jumpiness.

“Since they’re out like a light,” you say, looking over your shoulder at the two boys snoozing in the backseat, “tell them how much fun I had with you all, yeah?”

“Will do,” Eddie affirms. 

“And give them a kiss from me when you tuck them in.” Part of you is tempted to lean in and press a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek that’s meant for him to then pass in turn to the boys, but all emotions other than desire somehow keep it reigned in. 

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door handle and curl your fingers around the silver lever. 

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” you ask Eddie, offering him a small smile. 

“Absolutely. I’d, uh, offer to walk you inside, but I’ve got these two sleeping sloths in the back. I don’t trust them alone—even unconscious.”

Your soft responding giggle has Eddie smiling in his shadowed corner of the car. 

“Bye, Eddie.” The passenger side door opens with a clack and you swing one leg out of it.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

The moment the car door closes behind you, Eddie’s gaze falls to your ass. He watches each sway of your hips and finds his teeth sharply digging into his lower lip. 

“God damn,” Eddie mutters to himself once he sees you’re safely inside your building. 

He sits there for another quiet moment, one hand on the gear shift. After taking a deep lungful of air and releasing it slowly, Eddie turns the car back on and pulls out of the parking spot. 

The car hasn’t even made it out of the complex parking lot when Eddie hears his youngest stirring in the backseat with an overexaggerated yawn. The little boy smacks his lips together a few times before he opens his mouth and speaks in a voice still laced with sleep.

“Can I have some more cake?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWS #request

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 4: The Cabin: Day 1 (pt.1)

Summary: You and Soap leave for your week alone together. Your first day together goes about as well as you’d expect.

Word Count: 5,960

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, slightly suggestive language, Scottish language usage, lots of arguing, strong language

A/N: See the end of the chapter for the inspo pics of the cabin!

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Bitter Allies • Part 4

The next morning when your alarm went off at 0330. You wished more than anything you could go back to sleep, but Price said the plane was leaving at 0400, and you didn't want to be late. You feared your tarty arrival would make him add another week on to your sentence. Dealing with Soap for one week was going to be challenging enough, you weren't looking to add on more time.

Luckily you were used to waking up at odd hours and getting up super early. The military work you did didn't allow for any semblance of a good sleep schedule. If anything, by now, you'd become accustomed to being able to sleep and wake whenever.

Despite that, you were still super tired as you pull yourself out of bed and turn off your alarm. You didn't have too much time despite being up thirty minutes before departure. All you could really do was clean your face, get dressed, and do your hair before you needed to go. You planned on eating on the plane.

Once you were dressed and had freshened up, you had about fifteen minutes left, which was plenty of time. You pull out your pre-packed duffle bag, sleeping roll/pillow, and backpack. It might have seemed excessive, but you didn't know what you needed. Price didn't give you any indication of what would be provided and what you needed to bring. It was fairly safe to assume nothing though.

So your duffle bag had all of your clothes for the week, a towel, hygiene products, and some things to shower with. Your backpack held the more basic survival items. Flashlight, water purifier, MREs, cooking supplies, a knife, a fire starter, first aid kit, and then some books to help you pass the time. You wanted to bring a pistol as well, but you had a feeling Price wasn't going to let you take a gun with you.

Looking down at your packed things, you sigh to yourself. Maybe Price would change his mind when you got there. Maybe it was punishment enough to think he was going to make you do this, and then you'd have to spend all day unpacking and then doing the real punishment he had for you.

You could hope.

Collecting your things, you head out for the hell that awaits you.

***

Ghost was walking through the hallways back to his room. He hadn't been able to sleep last night, which was sadly a bit normal for him at this point. He woke up around 0200 and couldn't get back to sleep. So he decided to go to his office to get some paperwork done. He worked two solid hours before he ran out of work to do and opted to go back to his room.

His room was right next to Johnny's. He could have had an officer's bedroom, one with its own shower, but he sort of liked being closer to his team. Everyone was here aside from States, who stayed in the female barracks. The barracks they had currently weren't too bad either. They were cleaner, more modern. Much nicer than some of the others. He couldn't really complain.

As he got to his door, moving to unlock it, he hear what he believed to be snoring coming from Johnny's room. He paused for a long moment, listening carefully. He was supposed to be up already and heading off with States for their week in paradise, not sleeping.

Moving to his door, he knocked, figuring it wasn't going to hurt to check either way. If Soap wasn't there, none would be the wiser, if he was, then Ghost was doing him a huge favor.

"Johnny? You in there?" He calls out, but gets no reply. The snoring seems to continue though. Ghost tests the handle, finding it does turn. Of course Soap didn't lock his doors. He peaks insides, finding a lump still under the covers. Soap hadn't gotten up yet, and it was well past 0400 now.

"Johnny!" He shouts, pushing the door open more and finally making the other man startle awake. "What the fuck are you doing? You're supposed to be boarding like five minutes ago!"

Soap sits up fast, staring at Ghost with startled and sleep filled eyes. It takes the Scot about three seconds to fully process what Ghost had said before he looked over to his tiny alarm clock, blinking the time at him in red: 0407.

"Aye, for fuck's sake! Whit the fuck! Ma bloody alarm didnae go aff!" He shouts, his Scottish tongue thick as he throws his covers off and bolts around the room. He was only in his boxers, yanking his dresser open to grab some pants and a shirt. "Did they send you to come get me?" He asks hurriedly as he throws his shirt over his head and struggles to get his socks on.

Ghost watches him, eyes tracking his every movement. "No, I just happened to hear your loud ass snoring."

"Oh, thank God." Soap seems to relax a little bit at that, though he still keeps his quick pace as he gets ready. At least they hadn't sent anyone looking for him. He was sure they would soon though. Hopefully Price wasn't going to be too mad either. The last thing he wanted was to have to suffer another week with States all because his alarm didn't go off. He’d never hear the end of it from her if that happened.

"Fucking hell. You think Price is going to kill me?" He asks Ghosts as he gets his duffle bag and sleeping roll and throws them by the door. He gets to work on yanking his boots onto his feet and hurriedly doing the laces up.

"States will probably kill you first." Ghost answers truthfully, moving out of the way as Soap throws his stuff.

"Steaming Jesus, don't even bring her up. I don't want to even think about that lass right now." He groans, pulling his laces tight and doing up the remaining laces in a bow knot.

"You asked." Ghost shrugs as Soap springs to his feet.

"I asked what Price would do, you stoter." He grumbles, grabbing his bags from the ground and giving Ghost a pat on the chest as he passes. "Thanks for waking me up, I owe you one!"

***

You'd been waiting roughly fifteen minutes now by the plane, bags at your feet, and watching Price pace angrily. He hadn't been happy the second it hit 0400 with the Scot still nowhere in sight. You worried what he was going to do. You desperately didn't want him to extend your stay. You were here, why should you be punished when you were on time? Then again, if bootcamp taught you one thing, it was that if one member of your squad messed up, you all messed up.

"Aye! I'm here!" You hear in the distance. When you look, you can see Soap sprinting across the asphalt, duffle bag in one hand, sleeping roll under his armpit, and his free hand waving. "I'm so sorry I'm late. My bloody alarm didn't go off."

Price is glaring at him. Despite being one of the nicer military captains you've ever met in your life, Price was still a leader and didn't put up with people not listening to him. "You are fifteen minutes late, Soap. You've made me waste fifteen minutes of my time waiting on your ass." His tone was deep and rough.

"Sorry, Captain." He apologizes, but it doesn't seem to be enough for Price. You watch as he turns and walks to the plane, pulling out a large suitcase and throwing it onto the ground in front of you. You and Soap both stare at it for a long moment before looking up to Price.

"Listen up. Both of you. You are going to start working as a team. One of you messes up, you both do. And you don't blame each other, you'll blame your lack of teamwork and work to make it better. I want you both to repack your things into this suit case. What doesn't fit doesn't get to go. Your sleeping rolls don't count. You've got ten minutes to work it out."

“Captain, you can’t seriously-” Soap starts before Price cuts him off.

“I’d shut your mouth, Soap! You’re already on thin ice.” He growls. “Now, start packing.”

"Price," you quickly start, getting an annoyed look from him. He lets you continue regardless. Probably because you’d been on time.

“What?” He asks.

"Can you tell us what's already going to be there at the cabin? Like is there food already there?"

"I left some supplies for you on the plane. Figure it out." He says, looking to his watch. "And go."

You and Soap share a look before immediately ripping into your own duffle bags open. Clothes made sense to by the first thing to go in. Anything else could just be thrown on top. Quickly though, you are realizing just how much space they'd take up.

"Steaming Jesus, States! Take some of your clothes out!" Soap is already grabbing at your things and tossing them out. You grab his wrist to stop him.

"Don't throw my clothes on the ground! Throw some of your shit out!"

"I packed four sets of clothes! You have fucking seven!"

"Cause I packed enough for a week. I am not going to wear dirty clothes."

"Well you're gonna have to cause there's not enough room!" He yells, pushing your hand away. He tries to pull more out, but you stop him again.

"Fine! Fine, just let me do it! I'm taking seven pairs of underwear though." You start to take some of your clothes, stuffing them back into your duffle bag and trying to count out four pairs of pants and shirts. When you get to putting your underwear into the suitcase, you try to do so quickly so Soap doesn't see. However, you must not have been fast enough, because Soap seems to stutter in his movements.

"You have fucking red lacy panties?" He asks, making you blush furiously. To be fair, they were all different colors and designs. He'd only managed to catch a glimpse of the red ones.

"Shut up!" You growl, getting a grin from him. He thought this was funny.

"Who the hell you trying to dress up for?" He teases, but it's anything but playful. He's just being a dick.

"I said shut up! It's none of your damn business! These were in my bag, you shouldn't have ever seen them."

"Seven minutes!" Price calls out, reminding you to hurry. You still needed to finish packing your basics and needed to check the supplies you had on the plane to see what you might be missing. Time seemed to be going down way too fast.

Soap quickly moves on, throwing in his towel and a few others things while you try to put in your shampoo, conditioner, and a bar of soap in. Soap quickly tries to take them out though.

"Oh no," He starts, picking them up and handing them back to you. "We are using my stuff. We are already short on space, we don't need these taking up room."

"I am not using that horrible shit you use." You counter. Before you can argue it, Price is stepping in yet again.

"Come on, guys! You're down to six minutes! Work it out faster."

"You can pack that," you motion to his body wash. "But I get my shampoo. I will forget the conditioner, but I get real shampoo."

Feeling the time pressure, Soap all but growls. "Fine! Just move your ass!" He takes the shampoo from your hands and packs it away roughly before shoveling other hygiene things in. You're glad to see he's bringing deodorant among those things.

One of the last items you throw in are some tampons, which had Soap making a face.

"Oh, gross." He groans. "Don't tell me you're gonna menstruate."

You glare at him. "I might. I want them just in case. What, would you rather me bleed all over the place?"

"That's so fucking gross."

"What the hell you mean gross? You are around blood at the time!"

"That's different." He claims, making you stare at him in utter shock.

"How is it- you know what, forget it. Never, ever, get a girlfriend, MacTavish." He rolls his eyes but offers no argument back. Or maybe he would have, but Price cuts in.

"Five minutes, move! Lets go!" Price yells at you, making you grab your backpack.

"Go check the plan, see what we have, I'll throw in whatever we don't." You tell Soap as you start to put things in just in case Price calls time and you don't have them packed.

"No, cause you're going to mess with my stuff." He accuses, getting a glare from you.

"Can you just fucking trust me!? I'm not going to do that! I need to survive too!" You shout back, which gets him, reluctantly, moving. He runs over and hops inside the plan, pulling out the crates that had your supplies.

"We've got food! And a few MRE's. Probably enough for a week." He informs you. You still add a few of the MRE's you had just in case. "Looks like we also have a pot and utensils, water tablets, ..." He went silent a moment as he continued his digging.

“Come on! What else?!” You yell to him, growing frustrated that he seems to just be taking his sweet time.

"I’m working on it! Don’t get your red panties in a knot.” He yells back, making you huff. “Uhh.. a med-kit, flares, toilet paper, and a flashlight. I think that's it."

With that knowledge, you pack a few fire starters and then your pocket knife. The suit case was bulging at this point, but you hoped it would zip shut. Soap comes back out of the plane and looks over the things you've added.

"You two have one minute. Close it and get it in the plane." Price tells you. You try to shut it, but Soap quickly stops you.

"Wait, I've got one more thing." He quickly starts to dig through his bag and pulled out two, somewhat thick, black journals and some pencils. He throws them on top, and you shake your head.

"Really? Do you really need that?" The suitcase was already bulging. You were worried it wasn't going to close without the two books on top.

"Yes. I need those." He growls defensively, trying to move them to a different spot so they'd fit.

“So I can’t have conditioner, but you can have two fucking thick books?”

Soap glares at you. “I saw you pack a book. I get these.” He flips the top of the suitcase down. "Just sit your ass on it, I'll zip."

You would have fought him more about the books, but you are very aware you are running out of time. You didn't put it past Price to not let you have the suit case if you couldn't get it to the plane in time.

So you do what Soap says, putting all your weight on the bag while he tries to force the zipper alone the track. At first, you are worried it's going to break at any second the way he’s pulling on it, but he manages to get it shut.

"Thirty seconds!" Price calls.

Once Price calls out that time, you are scrambling to get off it while Soap is lifting it up. He grunts as he does, and you have to pause and watch him a moment. The muscles in his arms are flexing beautifully as he lifts the suitcase up. It's-

Oh God. You could vomit. Did you really just describe any part of Soap as beautiful? To be fair, he was a very good looking man. A very in shape one at that. But he could be pretty to look at while also being a train wreck on the inside. Still, you made a vow to never think about him in that way ever again.

"States, get your ass over here!" Soap shouts at you from inside the plane. He's already lifted the case inside while you're still on the ground by your stuff. Price is counting from ten seconds, and you scramble to your feet, running to board before Price says zero. Lord knows if he was going to punish you more if you aren't on the plane in time.

You make it up with about four seconds to spare. You and Soap are both out of breath a little bit, and Price is giving you a slow clap as he walks over.

"Didn't think you'd be able to pull it off if I'm being honest." He admits. "Since you exceeded my expectations, I'll let you go grab your sleeping rolls." He says, nodding behind him to the identical rolls still laying by your things. You and Soap both let out a groan, and Soap instantly lays into you.

"You kidding me, States? I do all that work lifting this overpacked luggage bag, and you can't even grab our sleeping gear?"

You're embarrassed to admit that the likely reason you didn't grab them was because you'd been distracted by Soap's muscles and then the horror of realizing you'd been staring. Of course you aren’t going to tell him that though.

"Well you could've reminded me to grab them." You try to cover, choosing to just respond to him the way you always did "That's what a team would do after all."

"Oh don't get all high and mighty, kiss ass."

"Soap go grab them," Price orders sternly. "Before I change my mind and tell the pilot to take off without them."

Soap peels himself from his seat with that order, grumbling as he goes. You stay where you are, watching him pluck both off the ground. Price stops him a moment while he's on his way back. They talk for a moment, and you think Soap takes something from him, but you aren't sure. You don't see anything though as Soap boards again and tosses your roll at you. You hadn't been expecting it, and it hits you in the face a bit. You managed to get your arms up just in time to block most of the impact.

"Hey!" You grumble as it hits you. You send Soap a glare and then grab your roll, moving it under the bench next to a backpack. "Don't throw my stuff around."

"Need to work on those reflexes." Soap mutters to you as he places his own roll on the other side of the backpack. You roll your eyes.

"Alright," Price says. "One week. You kids have fun. Don't fucking kill each other, got it? I don’t want to have to do all that paper work."

"Aye sir." Soap agrees, while you answer with a "yes sir."

***

The plane ride over was filled with a long silence. You didn't look at Soap, and he didn't look at you. It went on like this for hours. Price hadn't exactly told you where you were going, and at this rate, you didn't even know if you were going north or south. The only thing you really did know was that there was miles of trees below you.

Finally the pilot spoke to you over your headsets. "Touching down in five. Need to touch down in a clearing, so it's going to be about a two mile hike."

"Of course it is." Soap gripes over the headset. It's the first thing he's said since you took off. You sigh deeply, already preparing yourself for all the whining he's going to do while you make your way to the cabin.

The plane lands in the clearing, and you get up to gather your supplies. For only two people, there was a lot you needed to move. The container your food came in was a wooden box, so it was heavy. The suitcase was also super heavy, and on top of that, you also had your sleeping rolls and the backpack of supplies.

"How in the hell are we suppose to carry all this?" You mutter to yourself as you look down at all the stuff. The pilot had left the cockpit and was in the cabin with you, glancing over all your things.

"There's a wagon you can take. Might be a pain to get up hills or over rocks, but it might help to lighten the load a bit." He offers. "I'll go get it for you." He gives you a pat on the shoulder, and you offer him a smile.

"Really? That'd be great. Thanks." You hum, watching him leave. He must not have gotten the memo you and Soap were being punished. Still, you weren't going to say no to a wagon.

"Sure thing." He nods. "Anything for a pretty girl like you."

You are blushing furiously now, not expecting the pilot to say something like that to you. The compliment was appreciated, of course, though with Soap being around to hear it, you're more embarrassed than anything.

Soap was rolling his eyes and huffing as he watched the scene unfold. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest. Once the pilot is gone, you are glaring at him. "What?" You ask sternly. What could he possibly be all huffy about?

"You always flirt your way into getting the easiest route possible?" He grumbles, a venom to his tone. You stare at him in disbelief, mouth hanging open just slightly.

"I.. are you joking? I was not flirting with him. He's the one who offered to help. All I said was thanks." You don't know why you feel the need to defend yourself. Soap was just being an ass.

Soap rolls his eyes like he doesn't believe you. "If you show him your red lacy panties maybe we can get him to help us carry some this shite." He adds further, rather loudly, making your cheeks turn just about as red as your underwear. You throw an MRE at him, hitting him in the arm and making him jump slightly.

"Shut up!" You growl. "I do not need the whole world knowing something like that."

"Oh just me then, aye?"

You throw another MRE at him, but he's more prepared for it this time. He tries to catch, but misses. It just hits his hand and falls to the ground alongside the first one you threw.

"Stop throwing those! That's our food!" He growls, and you prepare to throw another one, but then the pilot comes returns.

"Here we go! Think this will work?" He asks, unfolding a decently sized wagon. It was going to work really well and definitely save you some strain. You look over to Soap, who's raising a brow at you, giving you a suggestive look. God, he was a child.

"Yep. That's great. Thanks." You say hurriedly, your tone coming off a lot less grateful than that poor pilot deserved. You take the handle from him and rush to pack up your stuff. "Soap get your ass over here and help me pack."

"You got it, lass." He says way too cheekily. He's just trying to get on your nerves. The faster you pack up and get to the cabin, the sooner you could get away from him.

He comes up right behind you, his breath on your ear. "What would you like me to do, boss." You flinch away from him, rubbing your ear of your shoulder. He's like a mosquito you can't get to leave you alone.

"Can you back up!? I don't want your stank breath on me. Just-just go make sure you have all your shit and make sure the backpack has everything we need." You snap, making Soap defensively raise his hands in surrender and back off. But you had a feeling he was perfectly fine with getting out of helping pack the wagon.

"Fine. Anything you want, princess."

You hated it when he called you that, but you just ignored him. It was too early in the day to be this mad at him. 

Luckily with him gone, it made it much easier to pack. You were still feeling stressed though. The suitcase is the first thing you put in, followed by just one of the crates of food. Already the wagon was pretty much full. You ended up dumping the other crate, just piling in food wherever it will fit. Hopefully the wagon would be just a little lighter without the extra crate.

The rest of the supplies was, hopefully, in the backpack. Given the fact Soap needed those things to survive too, you had high hopes he actually did a good job packing. When you regrouped, you forced Soap to pull the wagon, so he gave you the backpack to carry. You didn't argue that seeing as it was only fair.

The backpack was heavier than you thought it'd be, but not awful. As you walked down the ramp, you couldn't help but feel like you were forgetting something. With how rushed Price had you this morning, you hoped it wasn't something you left in your luggage back on base.

***

The hike to the cabin was worse than you thought it'd be. There was no cleared path that led to the cabin. It was all just woods. While the wagon seemed like a good idea, it got stuck on every rock, branch, and plant you passed by. You had to help Soap push it up the hills and get it unstuck so many times. It more than doubled the time it'd normally take for you to walk two miles. Every muscle ached by the time you reach the cabin, and tensions between you and Soap were running high.

When the cabin finally came into view, you were so excited. It looked so nice from the outside. It sat in the middle of a clearing, a big lake behind it, and sun beaming down on it. You swore it had a halo as angelic as it was.

That was until you stepped inside. The cabin you were staying in was tiny. It only had two rooms. Upon immediately walking in, you found yourself in the kitchen. It had an old wood fire stove for cooking in one corner, one cabinet for food, a few shelves, and a tiny table in the other corner. There was also a door which led outside to a small deck, and the lake was a good 15-20 meters away. There was also an old fire pit that sat between the deck and the water.

Off to the right was the bedroom. A wall with a door separated the bedroom from the kitchen. Inside was two cots, a dresser, and another wood stove between the cots. It was a really small room. The two cots took up a majority of the space.

"Where's the bathroom?" You frown, watching Soap from the kitchen as he stood in the middle of the bedroom. You hoped you'd just missed it somehow or it was hidden away.

"There isn't one." Soap grumbles, still cranky from the hike over. You were both pretty tired and hungry. It was around lunchtime.

"What do you mean? There has to be one. Where are we supposed to shower and-"

"Your eyesight's as sharp as a rubber knife, you know that?"

You were losing it. You'd just spend the last hour and a half walking two miles. You were sweaty, tired, and hungry. "Can you just stop being a dick and tell me?"

"There's an outhouse a few meters away from the cabin outside. You can shit in there. As for showering, you probably have to bathe in the lake." He answers finally.

You could die. Price was really pissed with you this time.

"Bathing outside. Just great." You mumble, looking out of the window to the lake. The water was probably freezing. Plus the thought of Soap seeing you naked made your skin crawl more than the thought of bathing with a fish.

While you'd been lost in thought looking out of the window, Soap came out of the bedroom to grab the backpack and the suitcase from the wagon. He wordlessly moves it into the bedroom, probably to start unpacking his things. Not wishing to be in the same room as him, you get to work on putting food away. You lift the crate of food from the wagon and set it on the ground then start to sort through the remaining food in the wagon.

A second later you hear a loud squeak. It sounded like the springs of the cot. Curiously, you looked into the bedroom to find Soap had sat on one. He shook his head and got up, moving to the other one.

"Hell no. Not dealing with that all night." He grumbles, sitting on the other cot, which was silent in comparison. You glare at him.

"Are you fucking serious? You're going to stick me with the bed that squeaks?" You stay in the doorway, watching as he unzips the backpack and pulls his sleeping roll from it.

"Yep. Snooze you lose." He says, unrolling his sleeping roll and laying it on the bed with his pillow.

You scowl are him from the doorway and storm over to grab the backpack from him to retrieve your own roll. Of course he was going to do this to you. "I fucking hate you, MacTavish. You're such an absolute child." You seethe, digging through the bag and not finding your sleeping roll in there. "Where's my sleeping roll?"

"Hell if I know." Soap answers, sitting on his cot and lying back while he watches you dig.

"What the fuck did you do with my sleeping roll, MacTavish?!" You shout this time, rage filling you. You needed that otherwise you were going to freeze every night.

"Christ's sake! I didn't touch your stuff! I don't know what the fuck you did with it!" He shouts back, matching your volume.

"You didn't pack my sleeping roll when you packed yours?!"

"Hell no! Why would I? I thought you'd have packed it in the wagon!"

"Why would I-?!" You take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. "So you're telling me my sleeping roll was right next to yours on the plane, but you packed yours, and left mine?"

"That is exactly what I am telling you."

"Why would you do that!" You growl at him as he sits up.

"Well for one there wasn't enough room in that bag for both with all the other shite that is in there. And I figured you'd grab your own bloody shite!" He growls right back, gripping the metal railing of the cot until his knuckles turned white.

"I was packing something else. I was distracted. You could have, I don't know, brought it over to me!"

"I thought you would have grabbed it yourself! You told me to worry about my own stuff, so I did!"

You groan aloud, running your fingers through your hair and pacing slightly. "Can you contact Price somehow and tell him to bring me my sleeping roll?"

"No." Soap answers, making you glare at him. "Don't you fucking glare at me! I don't have anyway of contacting him! Maybe you should have brought a radio if you were going to lose your stuff!"

"I didn't lose my stuff! My fucking teammate fucked me over and left it! You probably did it on purpose too!"

"Don't you dare fucking blame this on me, States!" Soap stands up suddenly, and he's right in your face. You find yourself taking a step back, but he just follows you. "I didn't do anything on purpose, so don't even go there! You did this to yourself! Fucking hell lass! Learn to take responsibility for your own actions, just like you should have at the debrief!" He shouts. "If you'd done that, then maybe we wouldn't be here! And you wouldn't be sleeping without your roll!"

You were shocked for a moment at his outburst, but quickly turn your gaze into a glare. The irony wasn't lost on you. He was demanding you take responsibility for your actions, but he wouldn't do that himself. Instead he just blamed everything on you.

"I should take responsibility? I should take responsibility!? You are always against me! Half the stuff I do is because I'm also being forced to work against you!"

"You're not being forced to do anything! You make your own damn choices and then blame me when it doesn't go the way you want it to!"

"You blame stuff on me all the time!!"

"Cause it always your fault! I tell you to do something and then you ignore me and treat me like I'm the enemy!"

"Maybe if you acted more like my teammate, I'd be less willing to treat you like the enemy!"

Soap's jaw clenched at your words. You stare at each other in silence. There's an intensity as you look at each other. You feel like at any moment, with a snap of your fingers, the tension is going to break. When it breaks, you're not sure what's going to happen. Before it can though, Soap finally breaks eyes contact with you.

"Fuck this and fuck you!" He snaps, stepping around you to leave the bedroom. His shoulder slams against yours as he does, and a few seconds later, you hear the cabin door slam shut.

Once he was gone, you feel your lip trembling. Already, one day in, and things were going terribly. You had to do this for six more days, and you weren't even halfway through the current one. You didn't know if you could do this.

Moving to your cot, you sink down and sob into your hands, the cot making a horrible creaking sound as you sit. The stress was getting to you and finally boiling over. This morning not being able to bring all your things, having no bathroom or shower, the long walk over, the hunger, the fighting with Soap... it was all too much. 

After sitting for a while, and Soap not coming back inside, you wipe your eyes and get to work on unpacking. You unpack your stuff, hoping to find your sleeping roll hidden somewhere among all the clothes. You didn't find it.

You then moved on to placing the cooking supplies and food onto the shelves and into the cabinet. Price had left you with some good food. A whole box eggs, bread (which was crushed a bit), cans of soup, beans, and corn, a bunch of MREs, and salt. You also had a small pan, two bowls, two plates, and two sets of silverware.

Once everything was packed away, all that was left to do was to sit around and wait for Soap to inevitably come back. You'd take a nap, but that was unappealing without your sleeping roll. You wanted to eat, but you didn't need Soap blowing up again cause you were wasting the rations or excluding him.

He didn't come back though. Hours passed. You got hungry eventually and went outside to start collecting wood to cook with. You looked for him as you did, but you didn't find any trace of him. You made one of the cans of soup, ate it slowly, and watched the door, thinking he’d come through any second.

As the sun began to set, and it started to get dark, you were really, really beginning to worry.

***

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Defend Myself

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (hockey fan & self-defence teacher)

Summary: During a hockey game, you get into a fight with the drunk man sitting beside you. When Tim Bradford arrives to break up the fight, he decides he'd like to see you again.

Warnings: fight between r and drunk man, unwelcome comments and grabbing (nothing overtly sexual or descriptive), fluff at the end, Tim and Aaron are sarcastic

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

A/N: Why I go back and forth between American and British spellings is a mystery.

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Alright, ladies,” you call to the self-defence class you’re teaching. “What’s the goal here?”

“Defend ourselves and protect our minds,” they reply.

“Right. Because learning how to fight and keeping yourself physically safe isn’t all that matters. Focusing on what can go wrong in life isn’t any fun, so while we work on self-defence, use it as anger management. Have fun with this!”

Your last class on Friday afternoons is one of your favorites. The women are always excited to learn, they listen well and use good form. Most importantly, they really understand your goal in teaching them. In addition to how great the group before you is, you also get to look forward to hockey after they leave. Whether it’s a game or just to watch practice, you find yourself at the rink most Fridays, and as many other chances as you can get. Hockey and self-defence are two of your favorite things, so afternoons like this are borderline magical.

“Uppercut,” you signal.

As you demonstrate the proper way to move into an uppercut after the warmup, you watch the class.

“Can I ask a question?” a woman in the back row asks between moves.

“Of course,” you reply with a smile.

“Have you ever had to use these moves in real life? Like, to defend yourself?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But that’s why we learn it, right? If we know how we don’t have to live in fear about the when.”

“Which is why we chose the bear,” another girl murmurs.

“Can’t always choose. Preparation is key, and knowing how to react is the most important thing you can learn as a woman.”

“Fighting can be boring though,” someone groans.

“Clearly, you’ve never been to a hockey game. Let’s focus, ladies. Take a breather before we move into strength drills.”

You grab your water bottle from the floor and survey your classroom. Hockey fights are certainly more entertaining than fighting to defend yourself, but you enjoy both.

Los Angeles isn’t necessarily known for its hockey scene, but the arena is packed tonight. Your season pass with the seat on the ice is getting plenty of use this year, and as you sit back to watch warmups, you can’t help the smile that grows on your face.

As the crowd grows and the first period gets nearer, two men take the seats to your right. You nod politely when they greet you, but quickly return your attention to the players preparing to skate out. While the announcer introduces the teams and prepares the fans for a good game, you glance toward the men beside you. The one closest to you seems to already be buzzed, and the oversized cup of beer between his legs doesn’t instill confidence in you. Hopefully, he’ll stay quiet, you think. Cheering for your team is one thing but you know too well how quickly a drunk hockey fan can ruin a night. Anyone who’s been to a hockey game can probably imagine your concern.

You try to ignore him as he gets more talkative, but in the middle of the first period, he drains the remainder of his beer and turns toward you.

“Pretty little thing like you prob’y has some questions,” he says. “I can explain it t’ya.”

“I’m good,” you answer firmly.

“If t’changes,” he slurs as he turns away.

It won’t.

The bell rings and the teams leave the ice as the crowd rises in mass. You stay seated comfortably in your seat as your drunk neighbor leaves with his friend. Since you told him you didn’t need his help, he’s left you alone. As long as that continues, you’ll be able to enjoy the rest of the game, and maybe witness a hat trick from your favourite player.

“Here,” your neighbor says as he returns. “Looked thirsty.”

He shoves a cup of soda toward you, and you push it back. “I don’t want that.”

“Just try’na be nice!”

As he falls back into his seat, you lean toward the side to get some room. His arm moves to the armrest between you as he reaches his fingers toward your leg.

“Don’t touch me,” you tell him as you knock his hand back into his lap.

“Jus’ a pretty lil’ thing,” he murmurs as he leans over the armrest.

“Sir, get him under control,” you say to his friend.

“He’s not my problem,” the other man answers.

“Stop.”

He rolls his eyes as if you’re overreacting and sits back in his seat. Your fists are clenched tightly as you watch him move away from you, and you’re mad that he’s causing you to miss so much of the game and keeping you from enjoying it.

“Los Angeles, make some noise for the third period!” the announcer yells. “We’ve got a tight game and tighter teams. Make it a night to remember, LA.”

“Night to r’mem’ba sounds pre’y good.”

You take a deep breath before you raise your eyes. Somehow, your neighbor got more drunk in the short break between the second and third periods than the rest of the game combined. He reaches toward your arm, and when you pull away, he frowns and steps to stand over you where you sit.

“Leave me alone,” you demand as you stand.

After you put a bit of space between you, you notice that the people sitting behind you are watching you. You don’t care, however, as he throws an empty cup toward you. You move out of the way, and it isn’t until he lunges toward you that you truly react. Your fist makes impact with his jaw before he finishes stepping forward.

“Fight!” someone yells behind you.

You plan to do just that. If he can’t understand no or stop, maybe he’ll understand some of your favourite self-defence moves.

“Reports of assault at Honda Center: fight in progress. Attendees have made numerous reports of disturbance,” dispatch alerts.

“Responding,” Tim replies. “Code 3.”

“Aren’t there supposed to be fights at hockey games?” Aaron asks. “That’s, like, half of the draw.”

“On the ice. Fights off the ice are a regular occurrence,” Tim answers. “Usually drunk rival teams.”

“Easy to break up?”

“Sure. If you think pulling a guy who can’t feel anything off of another guy who doesn’t even remember why he’s trying to kill someone else easy, absolutely.”

“Could’ve just said no,” Aaron mumbles as Tim turns.

“Man, back up!” a security guard demands.

He grabs your attacker’s shoulder and tries to pull him backward, but it doesn’t work. As you prepare to throw another punch, you see that the drunk guy’s eye is black and swelling, his lip is busted, his nose is bleeding, yet he still isn’t quitting.

“Jus’ stop playin’!” the man demands as he grabs for your waist.

You push his wrists away and shove him against the glass dividing you from the ice. He elbows backward, but you block it with your forearm as he yells at you.

“The police are on the way!” someone yells from higher in the seats.

“Get off me!” the man roars as he pushes himself backward.

You manage to catch yourself before he shoves you against the seats. When he raises his hands toward your chest, you raise your right leg into a front kick and momentarily stun him into remaining still.

“Kick his butt, lady!” a man cheers.

“LAPD,” Tim announces as he and Aaron enter the arena. “Where’s the fight?”

“Follow me,” the guard replies.

He leads them into the section where the crowd has gathered to watch the fight. The moment Tim sees the number of people invested in the fight and the suspended timer above the rink, he expects the worst.

“Call for backup, Bradford?” Aaron asks.

“Not yet. Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” Tim answers.

“I doubt the guy can go for much longer anyway,” the guard adds. “She knows what she’s doing.”

Tim doesn’t get a chance to ask what that means before he reaches the center of the crowd. He watches you elbow the man under his chin. As Aaron takes a step toward you, Tim extends his arm to stop him. You’re clearly winning, but the guy is too drunk to realize that he can’t keep going. He’ll realize just how badly he lost once the alcohol wears off. A night in lockup would do that nicely, Tim thinks.

The man steps back and prepares to jump at you, but Tim grabs his shoulder from behind and throws him against the glass before he shoves the man to the floor. With his knee pressed into the man’s kidney, Tim secures the handcuffs on his wrists.

“Take him,” Tim tells Aaron.

Aaron nods and yells for the crowd to clear a path. He follows a small group of security guards as he walks back to the shop.

The crowd around you begins to spread out the moment your attacker is ripped away from you. You take a deep breath and nod at the officer who helped you.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer with a smile. “Little tired. Thanks for the assist, Officer Bradford.”

Tim watches your eyes rise back to his face after reading his name tag. He smiles at you just before the buzzer over your head rings as the game resumes.

“You wanna stay?” he asks over the sound of skates and cheers.

You shake your head and follow him to the staircase. Once you’re in the main area of Honda Center and the noise of the game is muffled, Tim turns toward you.

“That was impressive,” he applauds. “I’ve been called to more fights than I can count. Never seen one under control like you had it. You, uh, you clearly won.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to commend me for getting into a fight, officer,” you tease.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” he asks.

“I teach a self-defence class for women,” you explain. “Been fighting for a while but honed my skills for safety more than entertainment.”

“Then they were wrong.” At your confused look, Tim clarifies, “911 dispatcher said there was a fight. You were just defending yourself.”

“He was drunk and didn’t understand when I told him to stop.”

“Which I am allowed to commend you for.”

You smile at Tim again, and he decides that he needs to see you again. More than being impressed by the thorough beating you delivered to the man who was harassing you and trying to touch you, Tim finds you incredibly beautiful, and he knows you’re talented and care about others. He doesn’t want this to be a one-time encounter.

“Have you ever considered hosting a class for the police department?” he asks, looking for a way to ensure he can talk to you again soon. “We bring in instructors from the city occasionally to host free classes. You’d receive compensation, of course.”

“I haven’t, but it does sound nice. If more women knew how to defend themselves, it might make your job easier.”

Tim agrees as he hands you his card. “Call the station in the morning and we can work something out. If you need a teacher’s assistant or anything, I’d be happy to help, too.”

You tap his card against your thigh as you say, “I’d like that.”

“Bradford!” his partner, Thorsen – you feel like you should recognize the name but don’t – calls. “We got another call.”

“Sorry,” Tim tells you. “Hopefully I’ll see you at the station soon.”

“I think you will.” When you smile at him this time, Tim feels like you punched him, too.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x you #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #the rookie #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

[flightyalrighty]

I had a dream about your comic that picked up pretty much right where you left off. In it, Sonic was talking to Shadow all casually like nothing was wrong with him being coated in blood and viscera. Shadow was understandably wary of him and was trying to figure out what happened but Sonic kept redirecting the conversation. He brought up a village that he passed by that was hosting an "Apple Festival" that was about to happen. Scenes from the festival to be were shown in bits and pieces, like children running around and Mobians playing carnival games, but the panels showing what should be a fun nighttime carnival were framed in a way that would put the bugs in the focus of it (like a low shot of a bunch of people standing around with a bug skittering in the grass or a bug resting "innocently" on the fork of an unaware person about to eat a bite of apple pie). Sonic then said that they were "Real rural folks that would brush off a bug ending up in their food by accident or a mosquito bite" then looked at Shadow in a meaningful way where you couldn't tell if it was him asking Shadow to help spread the infestation or if it was the last scrap of Sonic left begging him to read between the lines and help.

....And then I scrolled down and saw some discourse about how bad the alien bugs are at resembling insects and that was problematic somehow and you had disarm the argument by saying something along the lines of "they're mind controlling alien bugs, none of it is supposed to be realistic."

Discourse aside, the dread of seeing those dream pages and knowing things would go to shit had me waking up in the middle of the night with shivers running a mile a minute down my spine. Wild though, huh?

Yeah, pretty wild! That's a whole situation!

I feel actually kinda honored that you'd dream up fanfic of my fanfic, y'know? Sorry it got you waking up in the middle of the night tho :S

#Anonymous #asks

[ccycloneblogging]

Try not to be gay challenge: Imposible

You're absolutely right. No one on this blog is straight. Not you, not me, and certainly none of the Toons.

Speaking of! Now's a good opportunity for their sexualities head canons.

DogDay: Pansexual, Male

While this boy collects crushes like no other, he has two major things he looks for in a partner.

Soft hearts and a great laugh.

Meet those requirements and you'll never be rid of him.

CatNap: Demisexual, Non-binary (He/They)

Pretty sure he's moronsexual though

He seems to prefer men, but who knows?

Once he's gotten close to you - enough to show his trust? He's going to be smitten.

Bubba: Asexual, Biromantic, Male

Maybe one day this elephant will find someone he can happily debate - even if it's over dumb things.

For now, he's perfectly fine on his own. He doesn't feel like he needs a partner - but he's also not going to pass up on opportunity to see where things go.

Unless Toon DD is involved. Hard pass.

Kickin': Bisexual, Trans Male

He's not exactly looking for a partner. If asked, he'd claim he'd simply never find anyone who is as awesome as he is.

He seems to have a soft spot for a certain cat too... How interesting.

He prefers to just ignore his real name, happily taking whatever nicknames given to him.

Bobby: Pansexual, Gender fluid (Prefers She/Her)

Like Toon DogDay, she is in love with all of the other toons. However, unlike him, she knows how to handle it.

She can and will change her pronouns and appearance to match her mood. She/her is just her main preference.

She's already taken by Hoppy. There's no way Bobby would consider adding in someone else.

Hoppy: Lesbian, Trans Female

She's hopeless with flirting and romance. The absolute worst at it, as she melts with every single flirt from a pretty woman.

Hoppy is far from girly, but she's comfortable exactly where she is.

Crafty: Asexual, Questioning, Female

She's shy. Too shy to really go out there and flirt with others... She also doesn't feel attraction to others often. It's quite rare.

Any flirting with her either goes right over her head or she just becomes too much of a flustered mess and runs off.

All she really knows is that she wants a partner, but she's just unsure about any preferences.

Picky: Bisexual, Female

She loves to flirt - so long as she's the one in control of the conversation. She can and will turn things in her favor.

She has a massive crush on a certain elephant - one who's happened to be her good friend while growing up... However, it sadly seems one-sided.

She doesn't have any real preference about partners beyond that.

#thanks for stopping by the inbox! #toon logic au #ccyclone rambles #head canons for the Toon Critters

[strwberri-milk]

hey guys!! i decided last minute im gonna try to post a raf fic a day for the next week as like a little bday thing!! im hoping it forces me to write the ideas ive been meaning to write and just have been procrastinated so i hope yall dont mind the double posting for the next week <33

Sunlit Woes

Rafayel x GN!Reader || Domestic Fluff, Clingy Raf || 802 Words

For all of his complaints, Rafayel was nothing more than a cat to you when he got like this.

You didn’t know what it was about him that made him so needy, especially since you never even had an inkling that he was really that clingy. The media made him seem so untouchable. His aloof personality and neutral smiles made it hard to believe that the great artist Rafayel was indeed the same man with his face buried in your stomach, whining about the fact that you were late (you weren’t – you just couldn’t come by earlier than the agreed upon time).

“It’s not good for my heart you know!” he mumbles, muffled against your clothes as his arms wrap around your midsection. You laugh a little at the sensation of him nuzzling against you, running your fingers through his hair.

“If you wanted me to come earlier than you could have just told me to come earlier when we first made plans,” you chastise lightly with no real malice. “I would have tried to make it work if I had more of a heads up.”

“No! It’s something that you should just know! Especially since it’s been a while since the last time we saw each other.”

Now it all makes sense. You don’t know why you didn’t think of that sooner. Of course he was being extra clingy – you had just come back from a conference. He didn’t have easy access to you for the last week. You were barely able to text him back in a timely manner thanks to the packed schedule. You pity him a little, gently pushing his head back so you could see his puffed-up cheeks from pouting.

“Do you hate cats because you don’t want them to compete with you?” you tease, gently poking his cheek. “Because I’m pretty inclined to think of you as a kitty when you get like this.”

Your drastic change in subject works. He immediately turns red, hiding his face again but this time he doesn’t look like he’ll be showing himself any time soon. You don’t mind though – his ears are bright red as a sign of his embarrassment as he says something else that you can’t quite hear.

You bend down a little, gently pressing a soft kiss to his ear. You don’t mind the way the metal cuff of his earring pushes against the plush of your lips – it’s much more agreeable than having it get caught in your clothes as it has a time or two. He stiffens under your touch, acting as though you’d never kissed him before. Your hand goes to rest on his shoulder, smiling softly at the man melting under your touch.

“I’m sorry my beloved,” you say only for him to hear.

“I know you missed me. I should have been more considerate, yeah? Shouldn’t have made my pretty boy wait for me so long.”

He shoots straight up, looking offended as you cackle at him. His hands are stiff and twitch as though they want to reach up to cover his face or smack you – he just hasn’t decided yet. He’s a brilliant red made even more vibrant with the colours of the setting sun dying his form. He’s beautiful like this and for a second you understand why he’s so obsessed with capturing your likeness on canvas.

“Don’t you dare do that ever again,” he manages to sputter after a minute, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land.

Well, you suppose that’s what he is.

“I just took a page out of your book!” you say innocently, knowing that your intentions are anything but.

“You do stuff like that to me all the time! I think I’m allowed to get back at you at least once!”

“You’re messed up. Cruel even,” he shudders, shaking his head as though a breeze just passed through the room. You roll your eyes, getting up and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m going to make us something for dinner. You just sit there and sulk and come eat with me once you’ve mustered up the strength, alright?”

“Fine. I’ll languish on this couch as you deprive me of your presence, make me suffer from loneliness – a fitting death for someone like me!” he complains as you laugh, heading over to the kitchen.

If you’d turned to look at him you’d see just how in love he is with you, the absolute adoration on his face as he lays on his stomach to watch you leave. He thanks the universe or whatever else it is that let him have these quiet moments with you, closing his eyes as he allows himself to bathe in the warmth of your love for as long as he is allowed to.

#love and deepspace x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #rafayel x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #lads rafayel x reader

[bigbangclappin]

Baby Daddy Gangster 3

Summary: Ding Dong! Your baby daddy is back and wants in your life and your daughter’s. And with that smile you might as well shove the door wide open.

Paring: Nakamoto YutaXReader(1st Person POV!)

Warnings: Cursing! Baby Daddy themes, mentions of smut, toxic relationships, Mafia/Yakuza themes (It’s not glamorous in real life folks!) 

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: it's finally here!! Part 3. I hope you all enjoy it! I may do a part 4 based on the response here to part 3!

Tag List: @nonbinarykais-world @angelictypo @stolasisyourparent @ch3rrych3s @marvelahsobx @crazyllamasurfer @sunooluver @ayowhatthefuck563  @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @miinghaosstuff @veryhao @johnbanana

Part 2

“Ms (L/N)?” A sweet but masculine voice called.

Mark was jogging toward me and I felt myself pale in worry, please God tell me my Yuki was alright and that she wasn’t hurt. 

“Yes?” I replied when he reached me on the sidewalk, “What is it? Is Yuki alright?”

“Geez,” He ran a hand through his hair seemingly embarrassed,  “yeah I should have led with that Yuki is just fine! I’m sorry I just had something to ask you if you had a moment?”

I couldn’t help but feel relieved at the thought that my daughter was okay. Lately I was a hop, skip and a jump away from the edge due to her father’s sudden need to be a thorn in my side. I feared he’d try to power play me and kidnap Yuki or something only Yuta would do. 

While it may sound irrational to the regular people passing me by on the street, the fellow mothers, wives, and girlfriends of the underworld know just how true that fear really was. 

Look the wrong way, say the wrong thing, your child could disappear in front of your very eyes. 

In the back of my mind I knew that Yuta wasn’t the same man his father was; thank god. It meant my child wouldn’t be a sadistic means to an end. Thank goodness he took after his Grandfather. 

While his Grandfather ruled with an iron fist where necessary, he knew how to be a real family man to his loved ones. He showered affection and wisdom over Yuta and luckily it took precedence over his father’s harsher borderline neglectful upbringing. 

In the darkest recesses of my mind I knew Yuta wouldn’t use Yuki as a tool to get back at me. It wasn’t who he was; his father though his father was still on the throne then we were in big trouble.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” Mark waved a hand in front of my face with a chuckle, “Are you alright?”

“Hm? Oh yeah I’m fine just a lot of papers to grade and please call me (Y/n)” I waved him off, “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

The man’s brows furrowed and he chewed his bottom lip before speaking trepidatiously, “There was a man here last week during outside play that approached Yuki…don’t be alarmed she was okay. I got there as soon as I saw what was going on. I asked who he was and what he wanted with Yuki and he was super hostile. Like a territorial tiger or something, I thought he was going to knock me out just for picking Yuki up. He did show me a birth certificate claiming he’s Yuki’s father…” He ran his hand through his hair pausing for a breath, “Ms–I mean (Y/n) I know you said Yuki doesn’t have another parent and we will honor that but that man was Nakamoto Yuta, the Nakamoto Yuta the heir– no scratch that the leader of the largest Yakuza family in–”

I snapped before I had the chance to catch myself, “I know who he is!”

I mumbled a sorry as I ran my hands over my face in order to get it together, “That bastard haunts my every waking moment on this godforsaken earth, is what I meant to say. I guess for safety’s sake I should let you know that he is Yuki’s long-lost bio dad who has for some reason or another decided to pop up and become a pain in my ass. Yuki is not to be released to him without my consent. I have sole custody of her and he is not to be anywhere near her during school. He distracts her and is also a child himself.  I understand Yuta and his men can be intimidating, please tell me right away if he causes you any trouble I will take care of it. I know he will give you a hard time, just let him know I told you to tell him ‘Ear’ that’s all you need to say. It’s like tiger repellent.”

“Just the word ear?” Mark asked confused, “You don’t think he’ll threaten the other kids do you?”

“Yep if he has any sense to him he’ll remember what that means and not to push me or others in order to push me,” I shook my head for the other question, “Yuta wouldn’t hurt the other kids. He has some decency to him. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner it slipped my mind with everything going on, if it’s really too much trouble please let me know.”

“It’s no trouble at all I just wanted to be on the same page in case we needed a safety plan for Yuki and yourself.” 

I put a hand on Mark’s shoulder with a laugh, “A safety plan won’t keep Yuta away trust me if that were the case I would have deployed one by now. Just call me if he tries anything stupid.” 

“Will do (Y/n).”

As I walked to work that morning I had an inkling that the bastard was going to be poking his head around soon enough. He had been way too quiet the past week. He couldn’t go without trouble for more than twenty-four hours let alone seven days.

***

“So who can tell me the difference between a metaphor and a simile?” 

I smiled at all of the eager faces with their hands raised ready to answer my question, “Go ahead Binna–”

A knock interrupted my student and I noticed the school secretary disheveled looking as if she were clutching her pearls. “Ms (L/N)? Can you come with me for a moment? It's important.”

I eyed the lady up trying to figure out what it was that made her jog up to the second floor as if her ass was on fire when she couldn’t even be bothered to roll to the otherside of reception half the time. 

“Hana please read the first paragraph and then pick someone to read after you're done and be fair please. No auctioning off snacks for reading rights.” 

I was hardly able to ask what was going on when the secretary offered to watch my kids for me while I handled my ‘husband.’ 

“Handle who’s husband?” I asked confused, “Aren’t you in charge of building security?”

“Your husband is demanding to see you!” She shooed me away down the hallway.

First off how dare she make rude ass gestures like that toward me but second, I was never married and never will be. “I’m not married, you probably mixed me up with on of the other teachers I have to get back to class–”

The secretary grabbed my arm and whispered, “The Nakamoto Yuta is downstairs in the headmaster’s office waiting for you. The headmaster vacated his office for you to have a place to talk. I am not mistaken.”

I just gave a ‘tch’ and made my way toward the administrative office. This man didn’t know the meaning of conspicuous if it punched him in the face. Like I wanted to right now. Boundaries were a big thing when we were together because if I didn’t have any Yuta would’ve steam rolled me into a rice cake. Apparently in our time apart he forgot that work was a no interruption zone. He was part gangster and part Chihuahua. Cute ,loyal, with an adorable face on one hand and on the other a yappy, loud bark with territorial issues over their favorite person.  

As soon as I landed on the bottom floor I saw two of Yuta’s normal security posted outside of the office. When they saw me they bowed and I rolled my eyes at the memories of being called sister-in-law. I’m clearly regarded in the same manner as they held back a male coworker of mine just trying to walk out of the door before me. 

Although he was rude it was still embarrassing to have two large men make a scene over something so small. 

“Johnny,” I sighed at my husband’s right hand who sat just outside of the headmaster’s office in the ‘naughty’ chair, “Long time no see.” 

The man stood up with open arms and a cheeky grin and I couldn’t help myself, “Fine.”

He locked me in a giant bear hug and then tugged on my ponytail, “How’ve you been?”

“Not bad all things considered,” I pat him on the back with a grin, “How are things for you?”

“Things have been interesting.” He laughed and nodded over toward the closed office, “Go on lover boy is all twisted up in there.”

I rolled my eyes, “Maybe if I smack him it’ll right him out.”

“Good luck with that!” Johnny called leaving the small reception area entirely to stand outside with the other men, closing that door behind him too.

Here we go. Again.

I pushed the door open, “Nakamoto Yuta I am working this better be important.”

“Trust me it’s important baby,” He mumbled from his position on top of the desk. Dark hair, shaggy and unkempt, he had run his fingers through it and put some behind his ears. His all black suit covered all of his telling tattoos aside from the large neck piece peeking over his dress shirt collar. 

Worst one of them all might as well have been winking at me. I wish he’d get it covered up or lasered. I didn’t want to constantly see my initials on his left ring finger like we were still together, common-law or not. 

“It should be detrimental if you kicked my boss out of his office just because you felt like it.”

“You look beautiful,” Yuta gave me a smile and went for my hand. I dodged him just in time, “Still smell like peaches and cream too.”

I quirked an eyebrow, “What are you up to?”

“I can’t compliment my woman?” he asked with a little smirk that made my heart race.

“Does she know you are giving other women compliments?” I quipped, taking a whole step back, it felt like he was stalking me around the room like a jungle cat who hadn’t eaten in god knows how long. I’ve been his mouse before I know all of the signs it’s not happening again.

“As if there would ever be anyone else,” he rolled his eyes at me and nearly succeeded in backing me into the corner, if it weren’t for my swift footing. 

“Why are you here right now Yuta? Please, I have to get back to my class.”

“I went to visit Yuki at school today because I presumed you let Mark know that Yuki is in fact my daughter too. As in yours and mine. Did you know he had the balls to tell me that I couldn’t see my daughter?  He told me that he was instructed to tell me that I wasn’t allowed to see her, and that she wasn’t to leave the grounds without your permission–”

“Because she is learning–”

“Because you don’t want me to see her without you,” he snapped back. He ruffled his luscious hair before taking his seat back on the desk, arms crossed like a petulant child. “He said ear.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh and it all made sense now as to why this couldn’t wait, “You pulled me away from class because you were embarrassed?” 

“I was not embarrassed! I was appalled that you told him about it! A complete stranger!”

I covered my mouth to muffle my laughter, “Yuta I knew you would try to go behind my back because you can’t help yourself. If you had just stuck to the schedule I made for Yuki’s visits with you…”

“I would babe but sometimes our schedules don’t line up. Which is why I try to see her when I can.”

“Try another time when she isn’t at school.Without being sneaky about it too.”

“Who’s being sneaky?” he asked me with a roll of his eyes, “You knew I was trying to take her for lunch. I don’t have a regular nine to five job (Y/n) you know I don’t do the same shit everyday at the same time.”

“So your solution is to be selfish and disrupt her routine?” I asked annoyed, “Pull her out of class because Daddy has to go back to Osaka to oversee the factory? How is that fair to her?”

“Life isn’t always fair baby you and I both know that–”

“Yeah but that isn't an illusion I’m willing to destroy when she’s three Yuta! I mean come on–”

“So what?” He asked his arm flailing out in question his face heating with anger, “Fuck me then? I don’t get to see my little girl for two weeks because you want to keep her in a class where all she does is play with blocks?”

“You’re really starting to piss me off,” I managed to get out through gritted teeth, “These are the consequences of your own actions. I’m not going around in circles with you over your reasons again. Fact of the matter is I built this routine for her without you. Her world can’t suddenly revolve around your busy schedule, that’s what being a parent is all about. Yuki comes first, everything else is second. We sacrifice niceties and our time for her. I gave you options to work with if you want to see her. You can’t impose your will on our daughter.”

I could see his tongue poke the inside of his cheek out of anger and frustration, “It sounds like I can’t impose my will on you–”

“You’ve never been able to, a tradition I’m handing down to Yuki.”

“(Y/n) stop,” Yuta snapped slamming his open palms against the desk, “I’ve done everything right by you and by Yuki! I’m tired of this back and forth. She's my daughter too and if I want to take her out to lunch then I will!”

“No one said you couldn’t take her to lunch!” I snapped in return my blood boiling, “Just that you are going to respect her schedule. She’s the kid, it's not on her to follow your schedule! Kid’s her age need a routine that’s all it comes down to! I didn’t choose your line of work for you, and neither did she!”

“You can’t tell me that when you found out you were pregnant you didn’t factor in how I lived, how I had to make time for you, which I did, how sometimes our time was cut short, and in some way that would boil over in to how it would be when Yuki was born! You’ve always known how it is we’ve been together for ten years!”

I put a hand to my face in exasperation “Alright let me uno reverse you; You can’t tell me that when you left Yuki and I at the hospital that you expected me to know you were going to come back at some point in time and just become wonder dad. I didn’t even know you left one of the nurses told me you bolted!”

“Jesus, I expected you to use your context clues. I went to every appointment with you, every ultrasound.I helped pick out her name! How does that sound like I didn’t want to be in her life?”

“What?” I spat ready to yank at my hair, “Maybe because you said I’m not ready to be a father I’ll pay for you to have it taken care of?”

“Fuck!” He kicked the desk corner so hard it jumped back from the force. “I was scared of losing you! My enemies were closing in on the family and you were the prime target! They needed to believe that you meant nothing to me! Especially since you were pregnant! It’s the biggest target in my world! Kidnap and kill the leader’s woman. I couldn’t risk that happening to you or to our child! I panicked and I made a mistake! I want Yuki; I want you! I did what I thought I had to at the time to protect you both from harm. There isn't a day that goes by where I don’t think of our Yuki and you. She’s the apple of my eye but you’re my entire world (Y/n)--”

“Yuta–”

“No I already know what you’re going to say and I’ve held my tongue long enough,” he snapped rising up from the desk, “I love you! I always have and I always will–” 

“You, you, you! It’s always about you!” I screamed angrily, “Maybe if you had taken a goddamn moment to talk to me about whatever danger was encroaching, things could’ve been different! We may not even be here in this position if you thought about me and Yuki. Instead you kept us out; You’re angry at me for something you broke Yuta. How can I trust you to tell me the truth when it counts? I love you too, clearly I had your fucking kid but none of that matters if I can’t trust you to tell me anything. You lied to keep us safe sure, but you damaged the already fragile relationship we have instead of just talking to me.”

Yuta ran a large hand through his hair again but he wasn’t quick enough to hide his smirk, “You still love me? 

I stayed silent for a moment, chewing on my cheek, “Possibly.”

He chuckled deep, “Nuh uh baby, that’s not how that works.”

I cursed myself for my slip up as I glared at the man who will always be first and foremost a pain in my ass. “Ear Yuta.”

Red flushed his cheeks in embarrassment almost instantly, “Just because emotions haven’t always been your thing baby doesn’t mean you can try and deflect by kink shaming me.”

“I’m not embarrassed that you need your ears stimulated to cum.”

“What did she just say?” I heard Johnny ask from outside the office. The door popped open quickly, “Wait boss is that true?”

“Out Johnny,” Yuta pointed back at the exit at the same time I answered ‘Yes’.

“What the fuck (Y/N)?” he snapped at me, “If you value your life you will never repeat this to anyone…”

Johnny lifted both hands up in a defensive gesture, “Not my story to tell man.”

“Great, now get out and tell everyone they will lose their tongues if they talk!...and walk at least a few rooms down,” He ordered clearly out of sorts. 

Someone was most definitely embarrassed by his own needs. I tried to swallow my chuckle but I let it out anyway finding it too hard to contain. If looks could kill, yikes, this man’s icy stare would’ve caused me to drop dead right then and there. Maybe I went too far this time. 

Putting him in a position of shame in front of his men wasn’t the best idea. Other women in my shoes have been dealt with for less. Not that it justified his behavior. I just knew how things worked amongst the men in this organization and while Yuta had really pushed the envelope as far as progress for women goes, there were some things even he couldn’t let go.

Not with his men overhearing. He had to uphold his honor and reputation now. Unless he wanted to lose face in front of his subordinates, and in this world any sign of weakness will get you dethroned faster than a snap of your fingers.

The tapping of my ex’s fingers against the hard oak of the desk snapped me out of my thoughts and back to the present danger I was in. 

I thought for a moment that he may actually hurt me and that I royally fucked up. 

“You know how easy it is in my position to make things happen (Y/n) I could have marched right into that little nursery school and taken our daughter if I wanted to. I still could, nothing nor anyone could stop me, including you. We both know that, but you know why I haven’t done that?”

I could fathom a few guesses but with him leveraging his power over me, I thought it best to stay quiet and only shake my head in response. I didn’t want him to make good on his threat. He wasn’t wrong that he and Yuki could up and leave without a trace and no hope of me finding her. 

My pride hurt that I wasn’t able to bite back at his arrogance; I startled when he placed his large palm against my cheek. I attempted to squirm out from underneath him but the gentleness behind the touch turned to harsh control as he gripped my chin in his hand so I had no other choice but to look at him.

“I respect you.” He stated solemnly his hold tightened more, “I respect that you’re the mother of my child, unlike you who treats me as if I’m a fucking joke…”

I tapped him on the back of hand, “You’re hurting me Yuta.”

He let out a tch and backed off slightly, “I didn’t expect the warmest of welcomes baby, but I didn’t anticipate the depth of your animosity toward me, rather to the picture of me I had to paint.”

I searched through his dark eyes not exactly sure as to what I was actually looking for, what I did find was sincerity. “Your lie was convincing. The first few months after you left were terrible. I was running on Redbull and a prayer. Yuki wasn’t really fussy so there wasn’t much to distract me from thinking of you. It doesn’t help that she has your eyes and smile. Every Time she let out a little giggle I thought of you and my heart broke all over again. I learned to cope with the idea of being a single mom and doing it all on my own, it took me a while but I finally got there. Then you show up on my doorstep like you didn’t stomp all over my heart and everything was fine…so yeah it’s a little hard to believe otherwise.”

“Let me have the chance to show you how sorry I am for having to walk away from you when you needed me most.” 

He took my hand in his, he intertwined our fingers together and kissed my knuckles gently. His big eyes bore into mine and I had to admit he still knew how to get me to bend. I could never resist when he was being charming and sweet.

“It’s going to take a lot more than a handsome smile, Yuta.” I chided him but found myself unable to pull my hand away from his. 

It’s not that I didn’t want to give him a chance, I really wanted to throw caution to the wind and let the chips fall and land wherever they may but I had Yuki to be concerned for. He needed to prove he wanted to be in her life as her other parent. Which meant less focus on himself and more on our daughter’s needs.

“I don’t expect you to marry me tomorrow,” he said with such nonchalance, “Maybe in a year.”

I scoffed in disbelief, “Maybe never if you don’t start asking for my consent. I can’t believe you, I give you an inch and you took the whole god damn yard stick!”

“Baby you know I’m the only one for you…” he moved in like he was going to kiss me.

“How would I know that?” I pressed my palm to his invading lips, “I’ve only ever been with you.and like one and a half other men.”

 This man easily gives me whiplash one moment he’s being cute laying the overconfidence down thick, and the next his eyes are nearly black and I swear at the mention of other men he was hulking out due to his horrible possessive streak.

“What the hell does that even mean?” He growled, “Who are they?”

“I’m not stupid baby. I remember what happened when a poor unsuspecting sophomore tried to flirt with me,” I cringed at the awful bloody memory, “You nearly killed him.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, “Anyone who didn’t know you were my girl were either blind, gay, or didn’t care that we were together. That bastard was the latter. He got what he had coming to him just like you did when I fucked you in the guys showers afterward.”

I gasped in shock, “I’m at work Christ Yuta what if my boss heard you?”

He shrugged his shoulders with that irritating smirk of his, “Oops slip of the tongue.”

I ran a hand through my hair and put some much needed distance between him and I. “I’ve got to get back to class.”

Just as I pushed the handle down he grabbed my hand, “Oh no you don’t you have two very important names to disclose before I go on a fucking witch hunt. Was it that smug fucker Mark?”

“Nakamoto Yuta,” I sighed angrily while trying to twist my wrist from his grip, “How many times do I have to tell you that there is nothing going on between me and Mark?”

“As many times as it takes unless you willingly give up those two names…”

I swear to God if I could’ve slapped him I would have, I was past my breaking point. My blood was boiling hot, something only he managed to achieve. I’m entirely sure I’ve disclosed those two individuals to him before in the first place. I don’t know why he was being so dramatic.

“You weren’t the one who popped my cherry Yuta, you know that so there’s one…”

He nodded his head but then glared at me expectantly, “And the last one?”

“Seriously he was barely anything but second base–”

I heard his sharp intake of breath, “One base too many for my liking (Y/n), name now.”

“I don’t even remember his name. I was drunk at a party right after we broke up for the first time, I couldn’t even tell you what he looked like to be honest with you.”

“That’s classy babe, just hook up with anyone,” he snarled and aggressively ran his hands through his hair. 

“We weren’t together!” I scoffed, “It’s not like I slept with him, not to mention that this happened years ago! I haven’t been with anyone but you ever since. Including up to now. Your jealousy will be your downfall Yuta. ”

“Loving you is my downfall?” he asked with a sardonic brow raised.

I did not have the strength nor the patience left to have this fight with him again. I’ve tried one too many times to talk to him about this. I wasn’t going to beat my head against the wall again when I had a class of preteens waiting for me. 

“Are we done here?” I asked him, crossing my arms over my chest, “I really need to get back to my class.”

Yuta did that thing with his tongue and nodded his head, “We’re done for now. I’m taking our daughter for lunch and when I come back from Osaka you and I are going to dinner to finish this conversation.”

“Whatever,” I called over my shoulder. 

As I passed Johnny in the hallway I gave him another hug and apologized for putting him in the middle of another one of our notorious arguments. Poor guy probably felt like our third since he knew everything that happened in our relationship. He assured me that it was okay but I still felt awful.

As I walked back to my classroom I had this nagging feeling that Yuta may be a lot harder to put off then I initially thought. I was going to have to try harder and smarter if I wanted to get around Yuta’s constant watch.

I couldn’t have that threat of Yuki being taken from me hanging over my head. I had a lot of planning to do. With Yuta away for some time, I had the perfect opportunity to strike.

#baby daddy gangster #kpop scenarios #nct mafia au #bigbangclappin #nakamoto yuta #nakamoto yuta imagine #nakamoto yuta smut #nct imagines #nct au #nakamoto yuta au #nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct 127 mafia au #kpop mafia au #nct 127 imagines #nakamoto yutaxreader

[veritas-scribblings]

stay - @jegulus-microfic - words: 658

The black cat shows up on James’s doorstep one winter’s night. It’s snowing that night. There’s tiny little paw prints interspersed with droplets of blood dotted across James’s lawn, and the black cat is laying in the corner of the veranda shivering, twitching, grey eyes blinking suspiciously at James. It’s a small thing, delicate and lithe in the way that most cats are. No collar to speak of, but too well-kept to be a stray.

So, James supposes, a neglectful owner, perhaps?

James tugs his robe tighter around him and kneels down, and creeps over. The cat’s fur—long and black and silky—is matted with blood, long gashes like claw marks across its body. It’s managed to get itself into a fight, James reckons, with someone bigger and tougher and nastier than itself. The cat (a boy, James notes) meows and swipes at James, disgruntled at being manhandled against his will.

‘Come on,’ James says gently. ‘You’ll catch your death out here. It’s warm inside, I have a fire going.’ 

James calls the cat Dew Claw for his tendency to swipe angrily at James as he walks past. He learns quickly that Dew Claw is a spicy little creature with a nasty attitude and a proclivity for sitting on his makeshift bed, judging James with an intensity that’s almost human. It’s the way he watches James, tracking James’s movements across the room, meowing disparagingly every time James does so much as anything.

Almost two days pass before the Dew Claw is up and about, awkwardly so with healing wounds, and this is where the real problems begin. With the freedom to move comes free-reign of the house, and with free-reign of the house comes a tiny little invader getting into every room, nook and cranny. James starts to find black hair on all of his clothes, t-shirts with holes chewed into them, little glass ornaments and photo frames and figurines shoved off shelves. 

By the second week of Dew Claw’s residence in James Potter’s home, Dew Claw’s wounds have mostly healed. And James finds himself with a nightly companion. True to his nature, Dew Claw sleeps directly in the centre of his bed, forcing James to try and position himself so as to not crush the cat. On the first night, James sleeps so awkwardly he tumbles out of bed (an event Dew Claw peacefully sleeps through). By the second night, James figures out his sleeping position (curved into almost a U-shape), but he wakes up with a sore neck and a sore back that doesn’t go away for days.

They fall into a lovely little rhythm, James and Dew Claw. Though Dew Claw remains a spicy little creatures, he seems to come to trust James more. James learns that Dew Claw loves to be stroked, but must instigate it for the contact to be acceptable (he gained many scratches learning this lesson). He learns that Dew Claw loves bread (many loaves were sacrificed to this lesson) but hates Jam with a passion. He learns that Dew Claw seems to have this bizarre ability to read. This learning, James cannot seem to explain or reason away. Even for a magical cat.

They have a comfortable little life together. James buys fish from the local market and fries it up, because Dew Claw is suspicious of anything raw. They read together; sometimes novels, sometimes poetry, often the Daily Prophet, particularly the quidditch section. Dew Claw sleeps on his pillow now, by James head, sometimes tucked under the covers by James’s stomach and James fears rolling over and accidentally crushing his little body.

‘You live with me now,’ James whispers to the cat one night while he’s curled up by the fireplace, Dew Claw sleeping on his lap, kneading his thigh and purring almost aggressively.

When James wakes up on the third morning of the fourth week, he wakes up next to one Regulus Black, and suddenly, everything changes.

#harry potter #fanfiction #microfics #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #myfanfiction #myjegulusmicrofics

[wonton4rang]

having sexual tension with both leehan and taesan? so when everyone leaves except us three, shits happening 😩

YOU DID NOT WHATTHEACTUALFUCKKKK. not you making me write about my two favourite boys in bnd only for me to get even more crazy over them but thanks! (i'm literally giggling rn)

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pairing: gongfourz (taesan & leehan) x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, anal sex, double penetration, mentions of cheating, jaehyun as y/n's boyfie.

summary: where you have a strong sexual tension with taesan and leehan and they take the chance to clear it when your boyfriend's out of town <\3

note: hope you like this @hyuanlee !! it took me a while but here it is. 🫶 Also, if y'all see any typos, no you didn't.

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you were not dumb. not the slightest bit. so when your boyfriend jaehyun had to leave town for two days and his friends taesan and leehan dropped by your house, you knew it.

partly, you were not surprised by the fact that those two wanted to pay you a visit, even though they knew their friend was not home, just to make sure you were doing okay.

a call would've done it.

not to mention the way they looked at you, with so much hunger that it was soooo obvious that they would mess you up of they could. they would always make those "inoffensive" comments on how good you looked, how lucky was the man who managed to pull you.

jaehyun laughed at all of their jokes, loving the way his friends complimented his girl but totally missing their point when they would just laugh along and look at each other with that mischievous glow in their eyes.

jaehyun was so dumb.

but it was always like that, always the same absurb tension that would make you feel that weird feeling in your stomach, making your pussy throbb and you feeling so suffocated it was nonsense; like if you had a hand around your neck pressing with so much force you could faint.

they were both hot, they were both sexually appealing and you couldn't deny that you would love to have them between your legs. but they were your boyfriend's friends, you would never want to go that far with them, right? it was all jokes.

sure thing, whatever you say.

"y/n, aren't you hungry?" leehan asked you when he sat down in your side, the sofa shrinking a bit with his weight, you stopped looking at your phone to face him. "i didn't see you eating anything earlier"

"i'm good, i ate a lot at lunch so i'm not really hungry" you smiled back, feeling his gaze down your face before he moved it to your chest, picking at the skin he could see through the fabric of your pajamas "where's taesan anyways?" you tried to distract, looking around while leehan just kept getting closer to you.

"he's getting something" he just grinned at you, reaching your shirt with his fingers and playing a little bit with the fabric around your boobs, getting closer to your face before adding "this is such a soft material, where did you get it?"

"i got it when i went shopping with jaeyhun" you mentioned, backing up a bit. "i think it was on that cute store in the corner of the mall- what are you doing!?"

"i'm just touching it, can't i?" his voice was so low that it made you shiver, cursing a little bit in your mind when your nipples responded to it. "huh, it doesn't seems like you hate it though"

"shut it, it's kinda cold" he laughed at you when his fingers grazed your hard nipple and you jumped a little "yo, stop that"

"you don't like it?" but before you could answer his eyes dropped to your shorts, passing his tongue over his lips when he looked at your thighs "that short looks comfy, ain't it?"

"leehan, you have to quit it"

"can i touch it?" at this point you didn't knew what he meant, but being for real, you knew. and even though your morality was rotting your head and your hands started to shake a little bit, the thought of your boyfriend peeking out for a second before you heard a soft mumble on your ear, leehan making you rest your head on his arm and your thighs tensing when he finally ghosted his fingers close to your clothed pussy, softly pressing down on the flesh and looking at your face for confirmation when he said "do you mind?"

"no, i- you can"

and you didn't need to say it again when his fingers moved your shorts aside, finally feeling the wet patch in your panties when he touched them. you felt a little bit ashamed about it but the way his dick poked your thigh make you understand how hot it was for him too.

of course it was.

two of his fingers kept pressing down on your mount, still over your underwear, giving soft massages in that place and his face moving to kiss your left cheek with a warm kiss, his nose brushing against your face before he left a low moan out, his hips humping your thigh a little bit.

"you are so wet, y/n, why didn't you say anything? i could've helped you" he would whisper against your ear, leaving a soft bite afterwards and palming your pussy twice, making you flinch a bit before laughing. "so sensitive and yet so quiet"

"i don't know what you mean" you said back, you were not gonna admit he got you leaking by just getting close to you. never in a million years.

"you know exactly what i mean" and then his middle finger pressed against your folds, right in the middle, moving just enough to cause some friction between your underwear and your clit. "you love this, don't you? no need to hide it"

but color left your face when the door was opened, your hands holding leehan's arm and trying to pull him away from your clothed cunt but failing when he just laughed in your face, and dammit, his smile was so pretty that it even got you hotter, your pussy throbbing under his touch and your cheeks flushing when you say the third person entering the room.

"taesan"

you almost breathed out in relieve. well, for a second because then you remembered the situation you were on, you were just so grateful that it wasn't jaehyun that you forgot about it for a second.

"i thought we were playing with her together" he said in exchange, his eyes glued to the place where the younger male's fingers were.

"sorry, hyung, i couldn't help it. it's not like she opposed a lot either" he softly smiled "didn't even put up a fight"

you just watched the two boys in confusion, your hands loosening their grab on leehan's arm when taesan got closer, letting a plastic bag in the coffee table of the living room before taking place contrary to leehan on your side.

he looked at you a little bit differently than the younger male did, his eyes being somewhat sharper but his intentions not feeling so aggressive as leehan's. his right hand cupped your face and he licked his lips before leaning closer, barely touching the skin of your cheeks before pressing his forehead against the side of your face.

"can i kiss you, y/n?" he softly asked, leehan gulping on your side and restarting the movement of his finger against your pussy. taesan looked for your eyes when you went silent, trying to understand what your look supposed to mean. "you don't want me to-"

"i do, please"

taesan was never much of a talker, so he just laughed a lil bit at you saying 'please' when he was two seconds away from begging you. his lips crashing against yours right away and your chest lifting up and down a little bit fast due to the different feelings you were having, taesan's lips and tongue playing with yours and leehan's fingers making you grind down his hand, moaning into taesan's mouth when you felt both of them humping each one of your thighs.

"fuck, you're so hot" this time was leehan who talked, his finger finally breaking the barrier of your clothes and fully touching your soaked pussy. "goddamn it"

but you grew anxious when you felt that he left your side, almost breaking your kiss with taesan but the boy holding your face in place and stopping you from detaching his lips.

and you had your reasons to be nervous when your short got pulled down your legs with your panties and leehan was suddenly between both of your legs, his head so close to your pussy you actually felt his breath twitch before he finally left a long lick in your clit. your legs trembled and they both loved it, taesan's right hand going for leehan's hair and pressing the younger one against your cunt.

he left your lips to look at leehan eat you out, licking his own lips before saying "he looks so cute, doesn't he?" you had to hold in a whine when leehan mumbled in your pussy and sent some vibrations "such a pretty boy eating your cunt, don't you like him?"

"i do" was all you said, your eyes shut closed and your thighs on leehan's shoulders while he furiously lapped on your clit, flicking his tongue a little bit before placing wet open-mouthed there, gulping and taking that bulge of nerves between his teeth, gracing it and making your legs tremble. he was so good, so messy "fuck, stop, that's- oh my god"

"why do you want him to stop if you are feeling so good, y/n?" taesan was the one who spoke now, his fingers still tangled on leehan's hair but his eyes were looking at you, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel his breath when he talked. "do you like it like that?"

but at this point you couldn't even answer properly, just slowly moving your hips and riding leehan's face, being easy since taesan kept him pressed there with his hand. it was so hot, so dirty yet so wrong.

was it that bad if it felt so good? probably yes, but this time you wouldn't mind. just this time.

taesan took your lack of words as a signal that it was going good, and it was, so he could take care of himself now. he left your side met leehan between your legs, sharing a small grin with the younger before holding your legs up so they could both eat you out.

he was not gonna miss eating your cunt just because leehan was there, sharing some saliva with the other male and the sounds being so obscene it made you shake, trying to close your legs when it got too much.

both tongues playing with your pussy, taesan's middle finger knuckle deep inside your cunt and flicking up like a mad beast, leehan's soft moans sending vibrations to your wet folds and it was just too much.

"guys, stop, please i'm- please" but your hands went to hold their heads in place, your fingers tangling in their hair and you just feeling how the laughed "oh my god"

and just like that you came, right into their tongues, with a whine moan making you feel so ashamed before you felt the warmth of their faces abandon your cunt, taesan's finger slipping out and making you feel empty.

"you good?" leehan would ask, licking his lips with a smirk that just made your legs weak, the fact that taesan licked the finger that was previously inside of you didn't help either. "you have such a sweet pussy, baby. could eat you out three times a day"

"you are seriously mental" taesan laughed and fixed leehan's hair before facing you one more time. "but he's right tho"

"you both are insane" was all you could mumbled, your legs still shaking when you tried to cover your pussy by pulling your shorts up.

"what do you think you're doing?" your eyes pawned to leehan's and your ears could pick up the tingling metal sound of their belts being unbuckled, putting your shorts on anyways. "have you taken two at the same time before?"

"guys, i- i don't think we should do this. go this far, you know" both boys just kinda laughed, still undoing their pants and making you gulp when you noticed how hard they were for what you could peek before they lowered their trousers when you spoke again "i'm being serious"

"are you?" this time taesan spoke and before you could add he continued "that's not what your body and eyes are saying"

"i shouldn't"

"but you want to, and to be honest, we are already halfway there, y/n"

"you guys are not going to say anything, right? you know how he is and this would make him feel awful and i-"

"we won't say a thing" leehan reassured you and you quickly nodded. seeing how they started to lower their jeans made you get up and hold both of their hands.

"not here"

so they followed you upstairs, staring at your ass shamelessly and standing at the door when you guided them to a room, both of them looked at you with lifted eyebrows and you had to explain that it wasn't the one you shared with jaehyun, this one was a separate one you guys had with your old stuff that you brought when you left your parents house.

"good thing you brought your bed" joked leehan, finally walking into the room and taesan closing the door behind them.

he grabbed your face and finally stamped his lips on yours, his kisses were messier than taesan's but lighter and not that warm nor deep, his tongue brushed against yours and you jumped a little when taesan held your hips from behind, kissing your neck and softly moving his hands to the front of your shirt, caressing your already hard nipples through the fabric.

leehan's hands were divided, one cupping your face and the other one holding the hem of your shorts, threatening with pulling it down every once in a while. they were both driving you crazy, the feelings being too good and them being so hot.

you felt taesan's lips leaving your neck with an audible pop and immediately felt leehan pulling away too, both of them dragging you to the bed before taesan took his jeans off and layed down, pulling you to this lap and slowly moaning when he made you grind down on his hard dick, lifting you up enough remove his underwear and for you to remove your shorts.

"fuck" you heard him say when his naked dick finally brushed your cunt, seeing him bite his lip for a bit "leehan, i left the condoms and the stuff on the coffee table below, can you get them?"

"on my way"

"i'm sorry about that, pretty, but we need them" he explained before holding your nape and bringing you down so he could kiss you in the meantime "we're gonna fuck you so good"

so when leehan finally got back, everything started to move fast, the way taesan took the condom and ripped the package with his teeth, putting it on and immediately dropping you on top of his throbbing length, the way he moaned so sweetly yet low when you took it all the way in, biting your own lip and putting your hands on his chest.

you started to move on him, first rocking your hips from the front to the back a little bit and then starting to lift and drop, up and down, a good rhythm being found almost immediately when his hands held your hips and his own hips started to thrust up.

but what startled you was the cold feeling in your ass when leehan's lips attached to your ear, softly whispering "let me get you ready, hm?"

and suddenly he started to circle your hole, playing with the rim of nerves and slowly peeking his finger inside, getting enough lub so that it won't hurt you. taesan also helped, caressing your legs and pulling you in for a kiss while leehan worked you up.

one finger was in and you tensed, a second one got in after a few seconds and you were truly not as nervous as you were five minutes ago. in fact, it felt kinda good now.

so leehan finally picked up a pace and fucked two fingers in and out of your ass, the way taesan's cock was still hard and inside of your pussy creating a delicious friction that made you laugh and roll your eyes.

that was about enough. so leehan finally took his pants off and took place behind you, aligning his dick with your ass after putting the condom on and pushing in without even saying anything, going all the way and making even taesan moan because of the friction.

and then the pace started again, but this time with both of them, taesan fucking your pussy and leehan your ass, both of them doing it fast and deep, leehan's hand around your neck and his arm around your chest to keep you up, taesan playing with your hard nipples.

it was all too good, too perfect, too exquisite. it was driving you crazy.

"oh god, yes, please" you kept repeating, one of your own hands going to your clit to play with it and furiously rub it. you were so overwhelmed that you knew you were going to come at any moment. "you feel so good. you both fuck me so well"

and they just kept pushing, desperately looking for release and finding it when taesan came first, your warm and wet walls bringing him to the edge. also, watching you from below while leehan also fucked you, held your neck with his hand and both of you moaning?? taesan was a visual and audio man, that was too much.

but leehan, on the other side, is a man of feelings. so when he felt your pussy throbbing around taesan's dick after he came, causing you to cum too and tense your ass walls, he couldn't hold it either, giving you a deep and sharp thrust before finishing.

"goddamn" was all the younger male said, letting his grab on you go and you falling on taesan's chest, immediately being held on a hug by him and feeling your cheeks being kissed. "that was crazy good"

"it was" you confirmed and taesan just mumbled in agreement, hiding his face in the crook of your neck before you felt leehan pulling out. "are you guys staying for dinner?"

"i thought you said you weren't hungry" leehan started with some fun on his voice. "although the way your pussy and ass ate our cocks says otherwise"

but you just didn't have the strength to fight him back this time, just lazily laughing against taesan's skin and closing your eyes to rest, leehan went to lay down with you both and took a sheet to cover your naked bodies.

taesan held you close but made you lay on the bed, between him and leehan, you still having his cock inside your pussy tho. just laying there, being hugged by the two boys and comfortably falling asleep on their arms.

jaehyun was not coming home until the day after tomorrow so you will have time to do this again and then talk it out with the pillow to not feel so bad about it.

but c'mon, what were you supposed to do? he was out of town and his two friends were soooooo hot.

#boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor smut #leehan x reader #leehan smut #taesan x reader #jaehyun x reader #leehan scenarios #leehan imagines #taesan smut #taesan scenarios #taesan imagines

[masterjedilenawrites]

Ready Or Not

Howzer x fem!S/O | 1.9k words

Content: blind dates, bad first impressions, Howzer has some thoughts and feels to work through, maybe some demi vibes?, no real fluff but I think it's sweet in its own way

Prompt: I came across this concept of a "Meet Ugly" and thought it'd be interesting to explore. Used this scenario: Getting set up on a blind date and not having the best reaction when they first see each other.

Part of Operation #MoreHowzerFics

He did not have time for this.

Maybe the rest of the galaxy had been duped into thinking the war was over, but Howzer knew better. There was still a fight to be had, and a more dire one at that. A fight for his brothers. Their fates were hanging in the balance... and here he was, sitting at some cafe on Pabu waiting for a date.

He wasn't even sure how it had happened. Rex had insisted there was a reason soldiers took R&R, and even though they technically weren't soldiers anymore they should still try to relax every once in a while. Fireball had taken to saying "you need to get laid" every time Howzer was in an even slightly bad mood. Greer was always going on about how they needed to think of the future, find a dream worth fighting for, like a home or a family. And Gregor was weirdly interested in figuring out what everyone's "type" was; everywhere they went he'd point someone out and gauge their reactions.

All of that somehow had culminated in setting Howzer up on a blind date the second they touched down on Pabu. As if he had time for such things. As if he cared about such things.

And yet... here he was. Wearing his armor and a frown, but he'd still shown up. If he wasn't so busy cursing his brothers in his mind, he could have analyzed why he was here. Or whether he maybe secretly did care about such things.

His leg bounced and his narrowed eyes stared unfeeling out at the planet's glistening waters. He glanced down at his watch every few minutes, growing more upset at how the time passed without this supposedly "cute" date of his showing up. A memory of Echo whispered in the back of his mind, saying something about "Pabu time", how people here didn't need to move with the same urgency he was used to, but he didn't listen to it.

A few people passed by and gave him pleasant smiles. Some entered the patio and gave warm hugs to neighbors they recognized. An elderly couple went up to the counter, leisurely reading the menu as if they had never dined here before. One girl confidently strolled in, at first acting like she knew where she was going, and then halting in the middle of the tables and looking about in confusion. She then tried to cover and got in line to order, as if that had been her plan, even though Howzer had seen the whole thing and knew she had probably absentmindedly gone to the wrong place.

He fought back the urge to roll his eyes at these people. He wasn't really annoyed at them. If anything, he envied their peace. They didn't have family enslaved by the Empire. They didn't have uncertain futures. They were allowed to wander and smile and act a little silly. It's what he would want for his brothers once they were freed. No, he was annoyed because they weren't free. This peace was not theirs. But here he was, sitting in a cafe overlooking a beautiful view and waiting for a date as if he had earned it. How in the galaxy had he let Rex and the others convince him to do this?

Just when he started to entertain the idea of bailing, the girl from earlier caught his eye. She had made it up to the counter now and the worker was pointing over in his direction. Howzer subconsciously shifted, his back straightening and his hand settling on his thigh next to his blaster holster. Usually he'd pretend not to have noticed, let any potential threats think they were catching him unawares while all along he had the upper hand. But here, he decided to send a different message. I am aware, I see you staring, try to mess with me.

The girl followed the path that the worker had pointed her in, right to Howzer. She didn't look like a spy or some other kind of threat, but these days, who really knew. Especially when she seemed determined to appear pleasant and confident, despite the nervous gulp Howzer clocked from across the patio, not to mention the little display of carelessness he had seen from her earlier.

"Hi there," she said when she came within a few feet of his table.

She gave out a breathy laugh and Howzer frowned, waiting to see what she wanted from him.

"Um," she gulped again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Another nervous tell. What was she hiding? "I uh... Phee told me to meet someone here. For a... a date?"

Howzer's eyes widened in realization. Kriff.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk right past you," the girl continued to fill in the silence. "I guess I wasn't expecting, um..."

She trialed off as she realized how the thought was sounding out loud, and then quickly tried to save face by hurrying over to the seat opposite him and pulling it out. But Howzer wasn't going to let her off the hook that easy.

"Weren't expecting... what?" he asked once she sat down. He eased his hand away from his blaster but kept his posture upright. She may not be a threat but he wasn't exactly comfortable.

She exhaled quickly with a sheepish smile. "Well, a clone."

Howzer's eyes returned to their narrowed state, sizing up this girl he found himself sitting across from. She interpreted the silence as offense and immediately started babbling.

"I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. It's... it's just... You know, you've all just recently started coming here... I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised... Of course Phee would set me up with someone I don't know, I know practically every other guy here, and there's a reason I'm not with any of them... And she's been working with clones more recently... But like, I know only a few of you are sticking around for good, so I guess that's why it didn't occur to me that..."

Howzer wasn't sure when he had started zoning out. He felt bad, but also couldn't help it. He didn't have much time for this date to begin with, and certainly no time to listen to a stranger ramble without getting to any sort of point. He was a soldier; he valued conciseness. Whatever suppressed little hope he had that maybe this date wouldn't be so bad after all, maybe he finally would find a romantic connection with someone, dissipated into the saltwater breeze. 

He sat forward and the girl stopped spewing her thoughts, eagerly awaiting him to interject and contribute.

"Look, you seem like a nice girl," he lied. He honestly didn't really have an opinion about her one way or the other. He'd been hit on plenty of times back on Ryloth but had never felt anything by it, other than occasional annoyance when it interrupted his duties. "But it seems like we both have some disappoints over this arrangement. Why don't we cut our losses now, get some time back in our days, and part on good terms?"

Now it was her turn to frown.

"You... you're disappointed?"

Howzer was already scooting his chair back to stand. "It's nothing personal against you," he tried to reassure, though even he could hear how impolite it sounded. He hated that he was in such a situation. He should have never come in the first place.

He gave her a formal nod, almost like a salute, and then strode through the patio gate and down quiet, cobbled streets back toward the town square. Each step felt heavier and heavier and he did whatever he could to ignore the guilt twisting in his chest, even trying to look at his surroundings and focus on taking in the architecture and flora and beauty. It was a hollow focus, but he was determined to keep walking, believing he'd soon forget about this awkward encounter and the rude behavior he'd displayed, and things would go back to normal... as normal as they could be in a war.

But then a voice started to cut through to him from behind.

"Sir? Sir!"

He turned in confusion to see the girl jogging toward him. She pulled up a few feet from him, only slightly out of breath.

"Sorry. Um, I don't know your name. Or your rank."

"My rank doesn't matter anymore," he said, immediately regretting how defensive it sounded. He really was a mess today, wasn't he.

"Sure it does," she said with a small smile. "It was an accomplishment, something you should always be proud of."

Without realizing, the tenseness in his shoulders started to loosen. He took in a deep breath and said the first normal thing all day. "My name's Howzer. Captain Howzer."

Her smile grew just a bit more. "It's nice to meet you, Captain Howzer. And... I'm sorry if I came across rude or annoying before. I understand if you don't find me attractive, but I really don't want that to be your impression of me. I really wasn't disappointed to find out you were my date. In fact, I'm disappointed I didn't actually get to have you as a date. But, like I said... it's okay if you're not interested."

Howzer's heart was twisting again. She was a nice girl. Sweet, thoughtful. Still used too many words, but he supposed he didn't use enough sometimes. As far as attraction, he wasn't entirely sure he knew what that felt like, but those bright eyes and soft smile weren't so bad to look at.

"It's not that I'm not interested," he started to say slowly, but then realized he wasn't sure how to finish the thought.

The girl stepped closer. "You're just not ready?"

"Honestly, I don't know if I ever will be ready." He gave a sheepish shrug, though he was starting to feel better. He appreciated that she was helping him sort through these confusing feelings. Her eyes were closer, swimming with the reflection of the sky and what he believed to be genuine care. Before he knew it, he was elaborating. "I mean, do I like the idea of sitting down for coffee with someone and getting to know them? Of course. But to what end? I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I can be a good friend, let alone... something else."

She nodded in understanding but still offered a different perspective. "To be fair, no one really knows what the future holds. And relationships come in all different forms. There's no one way to be a good friend. Or a good something else."

Howzer's eyes slipped away from hers, pulled toward the glistening sea in the backdrop behind her. He mulled over her words as he watched the waves, nothing but tiny little ripples from this distance. It reminded him of some of the paintings he saw back on Ryloth. He'd always been impressed with artists who could make small details seem real. They were only small strokes on a canvass but they captured a whole entire feeling.

He shook himself, not sure why he was thinking about such a thing right now. The girl was still watching him with a small but knowing smile. She stepped back and returned the nod he'd given her back at the cafe.

"I'm really glad to have met you, Captain. I wish you all the best."

She turned and started walking back the way she'd came. Howzer let her get a few steps before finally calling out.

"Wait. I didn't get your name."

She paused and smiled at him over her shoulder.

"Hope."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Other Clones Tag: @kaijusplotch, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor,

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #morehowzerfics #captain howzer #captain baja blast #howzer x reader #howzer x s/o #dates #blind dates #first dates #first impressions #meet ugly #demiromantic #hope #oc!hope #?? #maybe??

[bleedingintogold]

(Don't mind me. Just dropping random OC lore without context. Currently on clone whump rot)

01 looked through the glass where 05 was. The youngest clone was sat almost comfortably on the examination table as the research and medical team around him poked and prodded at his skin. Several IV lines were connected to his body, either taking blood or pumping something else into it. There were electrodes on his temples and chest, monitoring vital signs.

01 had been afforded the dignity of boxers, all those years ago. 05 was given no such thing, covering himself with his hand as he stared blankly out the window, which was really too high to see anything but the sky. He wasn't the slightest bit fazed by these routine testings, yet the clone still grimaced when a new IV line was placed directly into the base of his neck, the medical officer doing the procedure holding his head firmly in place.

05's attention was caught by one of the officers as they explained something to him. The young man frowned before nodding, a gas mask placed on his mouth and nose before he was made to lie down on the table.

For a moment, 05 caught 01's eye through the one-way glass. 05 couldn't possibly see the older clone, but 01 could feel the gaze on him. It didn't last long as 05 lost consciousness within a few seconds, the gas mask removed in favour of a breathing tube down his throat.

01 left when the medical officers started to shave 05's hair. The sight of a tray of assorted sterile surgical equipment, including what 01 recognized as a drill and saw laid on it, being pushed into the room was enough to make his stomach turn.

-----

"Are they done with him?" asked 03, when he saw his elder enter their barracks. "No. They won't be for a while. Looks like they're putting a new chip in," "Why only him?" "His chip stopped sending signals during the past mission. You know how the higher ups hate to not be able to see what's going on in real time,"

What 01 did not mention, but was sure the other clones knew, was how unstable the committee believed 05 was. As though it was 05's fault that they had run out of raw DNA to clone him from and decided to use the genetic material from their previous sucessess instead. Them.

Clones made for the purpose of leading war according to their ideal. Made unable to disobey nor even consider to betray them.

Puppets with guns.

-----

05 groaned as he woke up. At least they had given him a blanket this time, even tucked him in. He passed his hand over his head, slightly upset at his shaved scalp before feeling the thick stitches at the base of his skull with his fingertip.

"How are you feeling, Alpha?"

05 hated that name more than his number. It ingrained that he was a test model, a draft. But its what everyone else but the other clones called him.

"My head hurts. May I get some painkillers?" "I apologize, Alpha. But you're not allowed to have any yet. I'll give you some as soon as I can," the officer said, almost respectfully if 05 didn't know any better.

He knew what they thought of him. If the older clones were their successes, 05 was barely a proper result. Soon they would make a 'Beta' or 'Gamma' and he would be thrown into a cryonetic tank, to be preserved like a fossil and used as fodder for the next generations. Alive but not at the same time. He dreaded that inevitable day.

"When will I be put back on the field?" "You'll stay here for the next week at least, so we can test that your chip works," "And my team?" "They will be deployed only when required under the command of your predecessors,"

05 watched as the medical officer prepared an IV. The officer held her hand out for 05 to offer his, cleaning the skin before sliding in a new IV in his wrist.

"This is for your nutrient supplement. You may feel hungry still, unfortunately. The best you can do is drink some water. No solid foods for 3 days," "I understand, "

05 thought she would leave right after that, so he had let his guard down, leaning back into the bed. He did not expect her to squeeze his already aching skull, her fingers digging painfully into his skin.

"Talk to me with more respect next time, Alpha. It's the least you can do in front of one of the people who made you," 05 grimaced, fighting off every trained and embedded instinct in him to subdue her. "I...I'm sorry. I didn't realize," he said instead, grimacing as a fingernail dug into the new stitches. "Good boy," The beep of the monitoring camera being turned back on was the last thing 05 heard before the door to his prison room was locked.

#whumpblr #whump community #whump tropes #whump prompt #whump #whumpee #team dynamics #leader whumpee #leader whump

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light - Ch 18 - Nightlife

Masterlist

Author's Notes: Dante POV here, Matteo next chapter

Both chapters will jump around a bit, but I didn't want to drag things out too long and it would just be a lot of the same thing over and over again anyway.

Content Warnings: vampire whump, angst, loneliness, beaten up, alcohol mention, smoking mention

----

Returning to his old ways shouldn't be this hard.

Dante spent forty-eight years alone. Matteo was only here two months.

Who knew such a slight impact could leave such a crater.

He set himself up for failure the moment he tried to go about business as usual as though none of it happened. Like they didn't bare their souls to each other, like he didn't lick Matteo's wounds and hold him while he cried, like Matteo didn't feed Dante with his own blood countless times.

The bedroom where Matteo stayed looks like no one touched it. The bed is neatly made, his things all gone, any mess cleaned up.

Only a few small things throughout the house provide any reminder that there was a second inhabitant, if only for a short while. Claw marks in the bunker, a broken attic window, the handful of things Matteo bought for him in town. Sometimes he can still recall the taste of Matteo's blood. Sometimes he still catches a hint of his scent when he walks into a room.

Without these things Dante might be able to convince himself that it was all a dream, or worse, a hallucination in his dying moments before he turns to ash, still staked to the wall upstairs. But the emptiness that aches within Dante is all too real.

-

I miss him.

The admission finally comes three weeks after Matteo left.

Night has just fallen and Dante is looking out the window. He has almost gotten used to the silence by now. He has also started hunting again, drinking just enough to keep going, no more, no less. Even now, something in him wants to live - if this could be called a life.

With each passing night the moon grows, and Dante dares to hope that Matteo will change his mind and return. Even if it was only for shelter, at least they could talk. Dante wouldn't try to make him stay; he just wants to know if their time together meant something to Matteo too. Maybe they could even stay in touch.

-

The full moon arrives.

Dante leaves the front door unlocked and a lamp on out front.

Morning comes, but there is no sign of Matteo.

-

Dante feels like he might finally lose his mind after all these years.

One moment he's doing alright, the next he's at the damn window again, looking for a figure that never appears. None of the usual distractions are working. His appetite continues to dwindle.

Three nights have passed since the full moon. Some part of Dante really believed it was the thing that would bring Matteo back. No matter how determined he was to move on, the hope was like an itch he couldn't scratch.

Sick of his own thoughts, Dante decides he needs to do something. He doesn't intend for it to be something reckless, but that's what happens. That night he steps outside, picks a direction, and starts walking.

-

After a few hours of nothing but trees, Dante reaches a state route that cuts through the woods. He ducks behind a tree until a single car passes before he steps out.

In the distance a handful of businesses line the road. As Dante approaches he can tell that most of them are closed, except for a gas station and a dive bar with a single glowing blue sign.

This is the point where Dante should turn around and head back. Instead he heads towards the light without any real plan. He hasn't been somewhere so public in over a decade. Maybe being around humans will remind him why he avoids it.

Dante only just makes it through the front door when a group of four belligerently drunk young men shove past him.

"Watch it," one snaps at him.

"Go home and take a bath," Dante mutters.

The man closest to him stops and turns around. "What was that?"

Shit. He keeps his back to them. "Nothing."

Another guy grab's Dante's shoulder and forces him to turn around. The group take one look at him with his long hair and old fashioned clothing and deem him an easy target.

Getting rid of them would be easy, but not worth the risk of getting caught, so Dante doesn't struggle when they drag him around the side of the building and shove him to the ground.

"It's nice and quiet out here. Now what did you say?"

Dante slowly stands and brushes himself off. He turns to walk away, but one of them grabs his arm. He immediately pulls free, and when the man reaches for him again Dante grabs him first, holding his wrist in a tight grip.

"What - what the fuck, man?! Let go!"

He struggles but Dante is unmoving, staring him down. If he wanted to he could snap his bones. If he really wanted to he could tell the man to break his own wrist, and he would obey.

Dante sees the the punch coming. He could stop it. He could stop all of this in an instant. If he wanted to. If he cared.

A fist strikes his cheek with brute force, sending Dante crashing to the ground. This time, before he has a chance to recover, all four men surround him and unleash a barrage of fists and boots, each blow more painful than the last. It's all he can do to shield his mouth so the humans don't see his fangs each time he cries out.

"HEY!" Someone shouts. "Break it up or I'm calling the cops!"

One of them grabs Dante's shirt and slams him back against the wall and leans in close. His breath smells like cheap beer and cigarettes.

"I don't want to see you here again," he growls, "got it?"

Dante nods and the man lets him go. He slides down the wall and slumps to the ground. The group heads off to their car, and the stranger who intervened walks over to check on him.

"You need me to call someone for you?"

That voice...

"Shit, he's not breathing. Hey, are you o...kay..."

He comes to a halt beside Dante and crouches down. Dante lifts his head and is met with a familiar pair of amber eyes.

"Dante?"

#vampire whump #angst #loneliness #beaten up #beaten #punched #alcohol mention #cigarette mention #whump writing #my writing #my ocs #dante #matteo #shun the light #no beta we die like men