#when he said ''alright i've had enough of this'' and then he popped up as fucking KERMIT THE FROG I LOST IT 💀💀💀

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

#f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #mclaren f1 #f1 fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

There's definitely a conversation to be had about the presentation of real historical figures in historical fiction, I think. As both a professional historian (PhD student 🤘🏾😔) and a man of color, I'm a bit more sensitive to this than a lot of people, and for me it always comes down to the question - what real harm is being done here?

And that's where I think OFMD does well enough for me to be comfortable. If you look at the fact that the show is based on real-life terrible people who did awful things and participated in the slave trade and you don't wanna fuck with the show, that's completely understandable, but I find it so much more palatable than (for the easy comparison) a piece of media like Black Sails (I actually like Black Sails, believe it or not, but there are a lot of things about how it treats many of these same figures that make me uncomfortable).

Now, yes, OFMD is hand-wavey with the slave trade in the Caribbean. None of our main characters own slaves or directly reference the slave trade (again, this is a romcom, I'd be shocked if they did). For me, this works alright for two big reasons. First, there are things that I think you can include in a romcom and have it still be a romcom, and a thoughtful, respectful depiction of the slave trade would take the show firmly out of romcom territory. Second, the show doesn't pretend racism doesn't exist, it treats its characters of color as three-dimensional people, and we always get the last laugh when racism is depicted. The very first episode sets the scene by having racist English Navy officers demean and call a Black character "slave" and they immediately get their asses kicked for it. Compare this to a show like Black Sails, where one of my main criticisms is how we're expected to sympathize with characters who actively participate in the slave trade and own slaves.

My other thing here is the people OFMD is working with are both heavily mythologized and not treated with any degree of historical accuracy. Many of our characters who are famous pirate names you might know are nothing like their real-world counterparts (take pirate queen Zheng Yi Sao, who wasn't even born yet when the show takes place). We know so little about any of the real people, anyway, that OFMD doesn't even bother trying to get anything right.

Like I said, I'm a professional historian and I love working with the golden age of piracy. That's a big reason I was drawn to this show in the first place! And if there's one thing I know, it's that pirates have been made into legends. We know very little about the real people, and in pop culture they're just myths.

The characters in OFMD are basically fictional characters working with the loose mythology based around the real people.

Now, back to my big thesis here: are the real, awful people benefitting in any way from OFMD taking these characters and making them into the good guys? Realistically, no, I'd argue. Most people with any critical thinking skills know that real pirates were not good people. Many people think Blackbeard is a made-up generic pirate character as it is. I've been to the real-life Stede Bonnet's grave site (NOT for the show, this was years before it aired and I was visiting the archives there to see the trial documents for a research project), and the historic marker there says he was "brought to justice." No one is wataching this show and thinking "oh those real guys must have been pretty great dudes!" because it's not about those real people.

This show isn't trying to change your perception of the real people, it's showing you fictional characters with the same names. One of our characters is runnig around in crocs, this show isn't trying to teach you about history or the real people and it's obvious.

If you're put off by the premise, I get it! But I just don't buy the idea that OFMD is putting anything harmful into the world just by existing.

#ofmd #our flag means death

[selineram3421]

*has a little idea* I've gotta listen to brain commands.

First Day

Alastor and Child Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ implied murder, mention of kidnapping, mention of heart attack, shake of head=no, fake crying lol, italic red=Alastor's thoughts ⚠

Alastor didn't understand why some demons worried over the little children that ran amuck in Hell.

That is until he adopted one himself.

Small, wide eyed, and frail looking. Of course he'd worry after a glance. But after seeing the pile of dead bodies beneath their feet, it seemed like there wasn't too much to worry about.

So all he had to do was teach them how to make others fear them. Especially after the whole kidnapping fiasco with Valentino.

And what better timing than their first day of school.

.

You were playing around in the hotel.

Most of it was following Husk around and scaring the other hotel guests. But then Charlie told Alastor the number of complaints from guests about you and your pranks.

"They are absolutely harmless! What's a little scare going to do?", the deer demon said.

"Someone had a heart attack.", Vaggie piped in.

"Nuh-uh!", you popped up out of nowhere, making the two females jump in surprise. "That frog demon croaked! He's just mad that I made him make a funny sound."

The blonde sighs before holding out a flyer to the red dressed demon.

"Look, I know you're just having fun but not all demons think its funny.", she tells you before looking at Alastor. "There's a school for demon children not too far from the hotel, maybe they can meet demons their age and make friends?"

After dinner you and Alastor sat down on the couch in the hotel room and read through the flyer.

"I don't want to go.", you pouted.

"Don't worry my little terror, we'll think of something.", he booped your nose. "Perhaps we can use this as training!"

"Training?", you repeated.

"Yes! We'll use this as an opportunity!", Alastor said as he stood from the couch, turning to hold out a hand for you to take. "Come little one, there's much I have to teach you."

.

"Remember what I taught you little one!", Alastor says, fixing their coat. "Anything can be a weapon..."

"With enough force and creativity!", they said confidently.

"Correct!", his smile brightened. "Now, let's go show the ladies that you are a proper demon with manners so they feel bad for sending you out. Remember to look sad."

"Hmhmm!", the nod again before taking a deep breath, putting on their sad face and looking down at the floor.

"Perfect.", he approved before leading them by the hand down to the lobby.

Both of the girls were waiting by the entrance doors to say their goodbyes to the little demon.

"We are ready!", Alastor announces.

"Hey! We got them a-", Charlie starts before noticing the little demon's sad face. "..lunch box."

Vaggie squints at them but doesn't say anything.

Though the Radio Demon can see that his little one's sad face is affecting her as well, the moth demon clenching her fists.

"Now, what do we say mon petit?", the deer demon pats their back.

"I'm..", they say but don't look up yet. "I'm sorry for being bad and I'll go to school so..", finally they look up at the girls with little tears starting to well up. "Please don't be mad anymore."

Charlie is obviously affected the most and looks over at her partner, receiving a shake of the head from the white haired demon in response.

The princess takes a breath before handing over the lunch box to the little demon. "Its only for a little bit, alright?"

"Ok..", they say, still keeping up with the act before turning to face him. "Bye Alastor."

"It won't be for long, don't worry.", he 'reassures' them. "I'll pick you up when school is out."

They nod before hugging his side.

He pats them on the head before waving them goodbye as they walk out of the hotel and to the school bus.

Bidding the ladies adieu, Alastor lets his smile widen after turning away from the two, wondering how his little demon will cause chaos.

I can't wait to hear all about it~

*wipes away tears after typing out the fake crying* I was that child huh.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@willowaudreykeyes @kiraisastay @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @scary-noodlesblog @naelys-the-aster @ducky-died-inside @biromanticboba @+?

ML for Alastor🎙

#alastor and child reader #platonic #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #gn reader #alastor the radio demon #child reader #fanfic #the radio demon #radio demon #demon child reader #implied murder #mention of heart attack #mention of kidnapping #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel #alastor & reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[24carathoney]

Let's Play A Little Game | H.JS | 18+

Pairing: Joshua x FemReader

Wc: 2.2k

Genre: Smut // Established Relationship

Warnings: minors do not interact // f. masterbation // m. masterbation // Joshua watches reader masterbate // unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) // f. fingering // squirting // creampie // multiple orgasms // overstimulation // use of pet names such as beautiful, love, baby //

Summary: Joshua and reader make a bet.

The rules were simple. The one who cracks first loses. If the both of you weren't so damn determined this game would've been over by now. But no. Neither of you could give up the title of winner. Here you are alone at home, soaking in the bathtub while Joshua was away at a photoshoot. Your mind was racing and the ache between your legs was beginning to be too much. And all of your me time wasn't helping one bit. 

You and Joshua were sitting on the couch in your shared home while he told you about the different bets Mingyu had lost during the tour. 

“He bet Seungcheol he could beat him in a fight?” You cackled, head leaning against the couch as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Yeah he did! It was so funny watching someone as tall as him run away from Seungcheol.”

“Seungcheol is a fucking power house. I'd run away too. I'm not getting hit by him.” Joshua let out another laugh as you scanned over his features, when an idea popped into your head.

“Speaking of bets. I have one in mind. For the two of us.” He arched an eyebrow but gave you his full attention, watching you fiddle with your fingers. “Let's see who can last the longest without sex.” 

“You honestly think you'd win that fight?” His eyebrow remained raised as his hands intertwined behind your back, pulling you closer to his body. You gave an excited nod, rubbing your hands over his clothed chest. 

“Yeah. I think I've grown used to your games. It shouldn't be a problem.”

“Have you? Okay then…..what does the winner get?”

“The loser has to do whatever they say for the next week.” You said and he looked up at the ceiling as if he was contemplating his choices.

“Alright. You got yourself a bet beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, sealing the deal. 

You let the memory fade as you dragged your hand down into the water, leaning back against the tub. A sigh left your lips as you imagined it to be his fingers instead of your own. You could feel the slick of your arousal between your thighs and that easily let you slip two fingers past your folds. Your head pulled back as you started thrusting your fingers in your entrance, a quiet moan leaving your lips. It felt good, but your fingers were not nearly as thick as his or as skilled. You curled your digits to that gummy spot that could push you over the edge but it wasn't enough. You groaned as you pulled your fingers out, starting to get more frustrated. The two of you made that stupid bet now you're struggling. Why? Because neither you or Josh plays fair. The past couple of days have been nothing but subtle glances, sly touches, and teasing. God the amount of teasing he's put you through. The night before he wanted nothing more than for you to cave. Telling you how beautiful you looked. How badly he wanted to bend you over the counter and take you then and there. 

“Don't you have that photoshoot tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Seungcheol and Jeonghan are gonna be there too.”

“Ah I see the 95 liners having a shoot together. How sweet.” You stated eating out of the cheeto bag in your hands. He nodded but wasn't fully listening as kept his eyes glued to your mouth when you licked the excess cheese dust from your fingers. You thought nothing of it until he grabbed your wrist, bringing a single digit to his lips. You shivered as his warm tongue ran over your finger and you swore you could die a happy woman tight in the kitchen. When he pulled away you stared up at him with wide eyes before he sent you a wink. 

“Come on beautiful, we should head to bed.”

“Hong Jisoo you can't do that to me and expect me to just fall asleep!” You shrieked as he walked away with his head thrown back.

���Trust me. I want nothing more than to fuck you right here in this kitchen. Bent over and on display for me. But I have a bet to win.” 

You sighed as you looked down at your hand, frustrated that you couldn't find the relief you dearly craved. Before Joshua you had no issue getting yourself off. But after Joshua? That man showed you many different ways to explore your body that you never knew existed. You decided to stop sulking and just watch a movie tonight. You grabbed your towel and stepped out, letting the bath drain out as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You scoffed as you went into the bedroom not even realizing Joshua was leaning against the doorframe. You moved to let go of the towel and a loud groan left his throat as it piled up onto the floor at your feet.

“Jesus babe you scared the shit outta me! Announce yourself!” You shouted as his dark gaze scanned you from head to toe. The man wasted no time closing the distance between you, taking your waist into his tight grip. “Shua….” 

“Did you cum?” You shuddered at his blunt question trying not to think about the way his hands are running up and down your sides.

“What?”

“In the bathroom…..you know you're not very quiet.” He smirked down at you and you took your bottom lip between your teeth. He grazed your cheek with one hand as he stepped forward, pushing you backwards till your legs hit the edge of the bed. There he was on his knees above you with dark hungry eyes and you felt yourself getting wetter than you were in the tub. 

“I think I thought of a way for both of us to get off, without losing the bet.” He took off his jacket and hooked a finger over his collar, slightly pulling to open up the top of his shirt. “We can't touch each other but we can touch ourselves. While the other watches.” Your chest grew tight with excitement. You've never had him watch you fuck yourself, be it with a toy or your own fingers. So this new side of your boyfriend definitely sparked something inside you. “Show me.”

“Show you?” You sat confused and he spread your legs apart gently.

“Show me how you were touching that pretty pussy love.” He said in a low voice and you lowered your hand between your legs. You laid back, getting comfortable to give him a better look. He let out a deep groan as your cunt glistened. Shining under the light beaming from the lamp beside the bed. “Look at that. So fucking wet for me.”

You whined when your finger grazed your clit wishing he'd do something. Anything. But he just continued to watch you. You decided to entertain him and arched off the bed when you slipped a finger inside with ease. You started to get hot under his intense gaze. In a sudden need for more, you added a second finger, using your other hand to rub soft circles around your throbbing bud. You couldn't get off before but now? It was something about the way he watched you that sent you to cloud nine. Your eyes fluttered closed as you drove yourself closer to the brink of an orgasm. You jolted in surprise when you felt his breath on your inner thigh, not even hearing him move down your body. 

“Joshua.” A shaky breath left you as he peppered soft kisses along your skin, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. But that's all he did. His lips never made it home causing you to whine in frustration. 

“Patience baby. *kiss* “Watch me.” *kiss* “Watch you.” *kiss* Every place his lips landed left a warm sensation as you plunged your fingers deeper into your pussy, your palm slapping against your clit. A familiar knot quickly formed in the pit of your stomach as your mouth fell open, the thumping in your ears slowly getting louder. “That's it. Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me?”

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Gonna cum for you.” You shook as he dragged his tongue along the skin of your inner thigh. Your body went stiff as your release crashed onto you leaving Joshua in awe. He could never get enough of watching you come undone. It would be a memory he stored for the rest of his life. He ran his hands over your thighs as you came down from you high, not even listening to what he was saying. 

“Did you hear me love?” 

“Hmm?” You had a content smile on your face, feeling his lips on your thighs again. 

“Think you can give me another?” His question finally reached your ears and you shook your head. 

“I can't…” But you could and you would for him. Anytime he asked. 

“Just one more. Let me savor it.” His voice was quiet but loud enough for you to look back up at him. His hand stroked his dick to give himself so relief as his eyes locked onto the way your mouth fell open. Your eyes drifted down to his hips and your tongue darted out to lick your lips as you watched him stroke himself. You wasted no more time to slip two fingers back into your slit. Your thrusts were quick as the sound of your drenched pussy filled the room keeping eye contact with Joshua who kept up with your pace. He could die a happy man watching the way your wetness dripped down your thighs each time your fingers slid back into your cunt. You twitched as he grabbed your wrist, positioning your fingers at a new angle while his hips quickly thrust in his hand.

“Oh” Your world was spinning as your fingers pushed against that sweet spot you tried earlier. But this time it was heavenly. Euphoric even. Your thrusts became erratic and you felt a familiar sensation build in your lower belly. “Joshua I'm gonna…….fuck.”

“Let go for me. Give me all of it.” Joshua had managed to strip out of his pants while you were concentrating on chasing your release for the second time. Joshua was too busy taking a mental screenshot as you bit your lip, eyes shut tight with your brows close together. You couldn't hold back any longer as your second orgasm had you seeing stars. You arched your back off the bed as the splash of liquid left your body, gushing all over the bed and Joshua. The sound of your pussy gushing bounced off of your loud moans as the sheets under you became soaked. You had squirted all over his thighs and lower belly. Your body went limp for a couple of seconds as you sat there to catch your breath. The wet and cold feeling on his skin was enough to make him go feral. 

“Fuck it.” He grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing your legs up as he slipped into you with ease. The sudden intrusion caused you to scream out and grab onto his arms. You swore your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his hips slammed into your ass, his cock hitting your g spot with every thrust. You're going to cum again. The drag of his cock along your walls was beginning to make you lightheaded. You were overstimulated but the pleasure was too good as his hips fucked into you at a rough pace. His hand came up to rest on the curve of your hips and you squealed as his thrusts became relentless, the man above you determined to have you trembling tomorrow. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” the word falls from your lips like a chant as your release hits you like a freight train. You arched into him as your body stilled, pushing out your cum like a fountain with enough force to have him slip from your pussy. He watches you drench his cock and thighs and within seconds he was back on you, fucking you through it as your nails dug into his back. The pressure in his stomach was ready to snap and he placed a soft kiss to the back of your ankle before pulling it over his shoulder, hips pistoning into you slow and hard. The fucked out look on your face paired with the way your pussy clamped down on him was enough to tip him over the edge as he gave one last hard thrust. His body stuttered and you felt him shoot his load deep into you. He gave a few more thrusts to ride out his high before grabbing himself by the base and slipping out of you with a squelch. You whined softly as the feeling of his warm cum leaked out of you. He scooped up some of the excess before pushing back into your hole causing you to jolt as he brushed your clit by mistake.

“I guess……” You took a deep breath.  “I win.” Your eyes locked onto his and he gave you a soft smile before taking your lips in a kiss. 

“I guess so.” He smiled as he kissed your shoulder. “What would you like me to do first?”

“Make me dinner?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“As you wish.”

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt #joshua x reader #hong jisoo #seventeen joshua #joshua smut #joshua x you #joshua imagines

[loveharlow]

SEVEN - 002

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[6.5k] based on 1x02.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of parental neglect, mild violence, mentions of death/grief, disturbance of a graveyard (?)

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ I've been wanting to do an OBX rewrite for a very long time so here it is, the first chapter from yours truly.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

“DO YOU REALLY THINK BIG JOHN COULD STILL BE ALIVE?” Kiara’s slightly digitally distorted voice came from the other end of the line. Your phone was pressed between your ear and shoulder as you searched the hangers in your closet, bath towel wrapped snug around your frame and your hair thrown up into a bun, which was presenting more like a mess of damp strands.

“It doesn’t matter what we think, Kie,” You made clear, eyeing a cute shirt you thought you’d lost. “We should just be there for him.”

“Yeah… but what if we’re just feeding into a fantasy? Wouldn’t that make us bad friends if we weren’t honest with him?” You could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone as well, dresser drawers slamming occasionally. 

“Maybe you’re right.” You sighed, throwing your outfit onto your bed and heading back into the closet to find a bikini to wear underneath. Living in the Outer Banks meant you had a plethora to choose from. “But the way I see it? If it were my dad that went missing, I’d be looking for him too. I’d give anything to even have that small hope that my dad was still alive back, but I know he isn’t… so, I understand.”

“I didn’t think about it like that…” It was sad to hear her so conflicted, as if she’d said the wrong thing.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. And I would never want you to be able to understand that feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” You reassured, putting the girl on speaker to toss the phone on your bed and slipping the bikini you picked out onto your frame and tying the respective knots. “That’s why if John B thinks his dad is alive and wants to look for him? That’s what we’re gonna do. Because alive or not, John B is like a brother to me and leaving him to do this alone is what would make us bad friends.”

“I guess you’re right…are you still meeting up with the guys today?”

“Just J and John B for right now. Pope said he’d be around later after helping his pops.” You told her, slipping an oversized shirt over top of the bikini, eyeing your closet shelves for a pair of shorts.

“Alright, I might swing by if my parents aren’t up my ass about work.” She complained. “Talk to you later.”

“Later.” Was all you said before the end-call sound rang out in the expanse of your bedroom.

A swift series of knocks met your closed door from the other side, you shouted for them to come in, assuming it was either your mother or your dog Marley’s tail hitting the wood. The 2-year-old golden retriever had a knack for sitting outside your bedroom door on the rare occasion that it was closed and she wasn’t inside.

The knob twisted and in walked your mother, adorned in her signature navy blue pencil skirt and blazer, still a half hour to spare before she had to head off to her office for work. Rebecca Reyes was the Outer Banks’ most notable and renowned lawyer. Even when you still lived on The Cut all those months ago, she was still the island's number one defender. Moving to Figure Eight and getting rich, almost overnight, just gave her the resources she needed. You still questioned where all the money spawned from, chopping it down to your father’s life insurance coming through.

But the bank said that could take a while and you never assumed it was enough to buy a house on Figure Eight. But that’s adult stuff, you thought to yourself.

“You got home late yesterday,” She began bluntly, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist. The smell of her expensive perfume already wafting into your space. “Where were you?”

“Just out with John B and the others.” You said with a shrug, walking out the closet with a pair of sneakers in your hands as you undid the tied laces.

She hummed, eyeing the space around you as if she’d never seen it before. “Did you hear about the boat they’re searching for? Scooter Grubbs’ boat?”

You side eyed her quickly, not quick enough for her to catch however. “Yeah, the whole island is losing their minds over it.”

“You and your friends haven’t come across anything, have you?”

“...I doubt we’d have any luck coming across a Grady-White, mom. Especially after the hurricane. That boat could be oceans away for all we know.”

“Right.” She agreed, but she seemed far away. Off. Why’d she care about Scooter Grubbs’ boat? “And what’s this I hear about some kid with a gun at The Point?” Your heart dropped. 

“A gun?” You acted semi-shocked. “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”

“Hm.” She droned. “Well, if you find anything don’t hesitate to tell me. Or Shoupe, for that matter. He said two out of towners showed up for the boat search yesterday, looked sketchy. So, be careful.”

You hummed in agreement, watching as the woman strutted out of the room without even a small ‘goodbye’. 

You and your mother were nowhere near as close as you used to be. Your father’s passing caused a rift between the two of you that seemed irreparable. You just felt like she had become so cold and closed off, nothing like the woman who used to bake every weekend or plan family nights in the backyard. She was more secretive, dismissive. You couldn’t even remember what her smile looked like. She’d changed so much. She used to hate Sheriff Shoupe, said he was a dirty cop who worked under the rich snobs of Figure Eight. Now, it’s like they’re business partners of some sort and she is a rich snob on Figure Eight. 

She even changed her last name back after your father died and wouldn’t tell you why. That was what made you feel the most alone. Rebecca Carter was now Rebecca Reyes but you were still Y/N Carter and your father would always be Owen Carter. 

It was like she was trying to erase him and everything they’d built together.

You hated to admit that sometimes you wondered what your father would think of the woman she’s become. If she would be as unrecognizable to him as she is to you.

YOU SAT IN THE BACK OF THE VAN, legs bent as your journal rested atop your thighs while you scribbled down your thoughts and recent events — namely the events of yesterday. You had one earbud in, your playlist on shuffle as you half-listened into JJ and John B’s conversation that was happening in the front seat, the bumpy ride making your handwriting a bit chicken scratch-ish.

“I don’t understand why you don’t at least try with Kiara,” JJ started, his heavy boots kicked up on the dashboard. “She clearly likes you. She’s like ‘Oh, John B!’. She’s sketchy about you diving and then she kissed you, bro.” The blonde continued. 

“She kissed me on the cheek. It’s not like we were makin’ out.” John B denied, brushing off the girl’s clear affections.

“Low-hanging fruit, bro.” JJ cut him off, the statement making you cringe in silence as you continued to scribble. “I see it in your eyes. You’re like ‘I kind of like that’.” JJ said in a mockingly low and seductive voice. 

“Okay, you want to talk about me?”

“Yeah, bro, I wanna talk about you and your lack of game.”

“My lack- my lack of game? Okay, what game do you have, JJ? ‘Cause I haven’t seen any improvement in your case.” JJ’s head whipped between you and the boy in the driver’s seat within milliseconds before he was swatting John B’s arm.

“C’mon, dude...” He warned in a hushed tone. John B just chuckled.

“That’s what I thought.”

Moments of silence passed before their voices were heard again. “I gotta admit, your dad’s compass in Scooter’s boat? Freaky, man…” JJ claimed, twirling the newfound object between his fingers.

“That’s why we’re going to talk to Ms. Lana and figure this whole thing out. She’s his wife, she has to know something.” John B told him. 

“And what makes you think she would want to talk to us?” You added, spooking the blonde boy in the passenger seat. 

“How long have you been listen-”

“I’m always listening.” You spoke bluntly, a blank expression on your face as you averted your attention from your journal to him. “Anyway,” you dismissed. “A group of teenagers showing up to ask her about her dead husband, the boat that the whole island is looking for, and the compass we found inside of said dead husband’s lost boat? She’ll either think we’re criminals, FBI, or crazy.”

“Well, this is our first resort.” John B replied, eyes looking at you through the rearview. “We gotta try.”

“KNOW WHAT THIS HOUSE LOOKS LIKE?” JJ said, leading the group of us to the front yard of Lana Grubbs’ residence. “Whoever lives here smokes too much weed.” He observed the small, shack-like house — the walls were overgrown with weeds, the yard looked like it’d never been cut, the place was a mess from the outside.

The three of you stopped, more like flinched, in your tracks when you heard glass-shattering from the inside of the house followed by crash after crash. It sounded like the outside of a rage-room or a gun range. 

“Maybe we should come back…” JJ advised, taking small steps back. But John B persisted, even as the two of you stood back in fear.

“No, no, shut up, JJ.” John B reprimanded absentmindedly. 

“Tell me where it is or I’ll fuck you up!” A deep, brassy voice boomed from the inside. The voice so authoritative it made you shudder, but it didn’t worry you as when a woman’s scream followed. You could only assume it was Ms. Lana. “I’ll sink you in the fucking-” A crash, louder than the rest, cut off the sentence, almost covering the sound of Ms. Lana’s blood-curling screech.

“You’re hurting me!”

John B beckoned JJ and you on with his hands, urging the both of you to move forward. Reluctantly, and after a weary glance at one another, you and JJ followed the brunette boy who was edging closer and closer to the side of the house. 

“Where the fuck is it?!”

“I don’t know!”

The three of you quickly dashed and ducked beneath the window seal on the only open window when you heard something hit the wall from the inside. You had just parted your lips to say that, just maybe, this was a bad idea. A terrible one, even, before a phrase yelled by the angry man inside had you shutting up.

“The compass wasn’t in the boat! Where is it, Lana?!”

“I don’t know!”

Your heart dropped as things continued to get thrown and slammed inside the house and you prayed those ‘things’ didn’t happen to be Lana. The paint and wood started to physically chip and fall off the walls outside, landing on top of the three of you crouched against the side of the house, wood particles falling into your eyes.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, man…” Another male voice commanded, followed by two pairs of heavy footsteps against the wooden floors inside. The three of you peeked around the corner to watch the two men disappear from the grounds through the front door, stomping angrily towards their boat. 

The same boat that had been shooting at you only 24 hours prior. 

“Those were the guys that shot at us.” JJ whisper-yelled. 

“Go back.” John B commanded, pushing you all back behind the safety of the wall so they wouldn’t see you all. Once the boat sped off, the three of you slowly tip-toed your way into the house. The sound of Lana’s cries getting louder and more heartbreaking the more you entered the house, shoes crunching on wood and glass. Photo frames and dishes all broken into smaller fractions and littered on the floor, holes in the walls, kitchen cabinets hanging on by a single hinge.

“Ms. Lana?” You called out, voice laced with concern, eyeing the broken windows before they found Ms. Lana’s curled up figure on the bathroom floor right below the sink that was hanging on by a singular pipe. “Oh my God.” You gasped, kneeling right next to the woman and laying a hand on her shoulder that caused her to flinch and shrink in on herself. 

She had tears running from her red, swollen eyes, curled up like someone’s child.

“She is tweakin’.”

“Shut up, JJ.” You hissed, shooting a mean glare at the insensitive blonde before turning your attention back to the feeble woman. “Do you need a doctor? We can call a doctor for you.” You assured, examining the multiple cuts adorning the woman’s face and arms.

“We can call the sheriff’s department-” John B was on the verge of suggesting before Lana cut him off frantically.

“No cops, please!”

“Mm, that’s not good. Let’s bounce.” JJ urged, weary of the woman’s persistence to avoid law enforcement. 

“You shouldn’t be here...” Lana cried, her eyes focused on John B, speaking as her lip quivered and her voice shook. 

The brunette’s face twisted, kneeling next to me to level his gaze with Ms. Lana’s. “Do you know those guys?”

“They were… looking for something.” Her voice wavered. 

“...Does it have anything to do with this?” John B asked her, pulling the compass from the back pocket of his board shorts. You and JJ shared a glance, both knowing John B probably shouldn’t have shown it to her. “This was my father’s and Scooter had it. Do you know why?”

Why did John B think showing a woman his father’s compass and saying he copped it from her dead husband was a good idea? You had no clue. Interrogation tactic? Impulsiveness? Stupidity? Lana’s eyes were wide and teary, she looked like she was seeing ghosts.

“Scooter didn’t have it, okay? Don’t tell anyone that you have that. They can’t know that you have that!”

Your lips pulled themselves into a thin line and you were starting to feel less bad for Lana and more suspicious of the distressed woman. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared. She didn’t seem to be a threat but she clearly knew things that she shouldn’t. You nudged JB’s arm, whispering in his direction even though the woman could most likely still hear you. “We should go…”

“You’ve gotta get out of here!” Lana cried, fearful gaze eyeing the compass in John’s grasp.

“What do you know about the compass?” John B raised his voice over her frantic one, still questioning Lana as JJ pulled him back and the three of you stood to leave.

“Go! Get out!” Was the last thing you heard as the hysteric woman yelled at your retreating figures.

“SO, YOU SAW THE GUYS THAT SHOT AT US, RIGHT?” Pope asked with his head in his hands, stressed after listening to JJ’s dramatic rendition of events. The three of you had returned to The Chateau and summoned Kiara and Pope not too long after, the events of today on the tip of your tongue. “Did you get a good description of them? Anything we can bring to a police report?”

You shook your head along with JJ and John B as Kiara and Pope sighed at you all's lack of response. There was nothing special about these guys. Sure, they seemed out of place but that’s because nobody on the island knew them. That was one perk about living in Kildare, everyone knows everyone. But these weren’t leather jacket, ski-mask wearing criminals. They didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

“That’s not very helpful…” Kiara huffed.

“But, but,” JJ started again. “They were burly. Like the men I’d see at my dad’s garage. You guys know he made cargo hides for drug smugglers...” He reminded you all carelessly. “I can tell you with full confidence that these guys? They’re square groupers.”

“Like Narcos square groupers?” Pope questioned with little amusement, his face dropping as he watched JJ smoke against the brick wall. 

“Like, Pablo Escobar square grouper?” You added on, just as skeptical from your seat on the patio floor, legs stretched in front of you and crossed over one another while you leaned on your elbows for support. JJ just nodded, blowing out smoke. 

“You guys, not everything is a kingpin movie.” Kie reprimanded from her place next to Pope on the patio furniture.

“Okay,” Pope started. “What does a square grouper look like? Hm? Because clearly, you don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Okay, you weren’t there! I wasn’t taking little mental polaroids the entire time, dude! I was under duress!” JJ whined to which you and John B rolled your eyes.

“Why would they want the compass?” Kiara probed, leaning forward in her seated position, resting her forearms on her thighs.

“That thing’s a piece of shit, you could pawn it off for five bucks if you wanted to… No offense, John B.” Pope claimed honestly, watching as John B flicked the object open and stared at it longingly, paying no mind to the boy’s insult.

“Well, clearly it’s worth something.” You popped in. “Considering these guys are willing to kill for it.”

“...The office.” You all turned to the scruffy brunette. A silent question on everyone’s face. “My dad’s office.” John B continued, shooting up and walking inside The Chateau as you all scurried to follow, shooting one another confused glances. “He always kept the office locked ‘cause he was worried about his competitors stealing his Royal Merchant research. Remember?” He directed at you and JJ, looking back but still walking forward. “We used to laugh at him like he was actually going to find it. But now that he’s…gone, I just left it as he kept it.” He said despondently.

“Yeah. For when he gets back.” Kie backed him up with a light-tipped smile. Keys jangled as John B unlocked the room you hadn’t seen in years. Not since before Big John went missing. Before all of this.

“I’ve slept over here like six-hundred times and I’ve never seen this door opened.” Pope said aloud, eyeing the office like a museum. 

This was like being hit by a tidal-wave for you. And you’re sure it was the same for John B. You can remember the countless nights you’d slept over before and after Big John went missing. Before he went missing and you, JB, and JJ would peek inside just to watch him just write and type like his life depended on it. It even brought back memories of when your dad would stay a while after dropping you off to spend the night just to share beers in the backyard with Big John. 

The nights after his disappearance weren’t as sweet though. Sleeping in a group hug around John B after his dad went missing. Then your friends all slept in a group hug around you after your dad went missing. Then they slept in another group hug around you when your dad’s body was found, washed up on the shore for the entire island to see. With the plethora of events, The Chateau became a haunted house in your mind.

“Look,” John B said, pulling you out of your stupor. He’d taken a bulletin board down off of the walls that was decorated with paper scraps and old pictures. His index finger pointed to the photo at the very top, a sepia-like tint to it. “This was the original owner of the compass.”

The paper pinned against the photo read ‘Robert Q. Routledge. 1880 - 1920’. 

“There’s the lucky compass right there.” Kiara showed you all, pointing to the object clutched in the old man’s hand in the picture. You wouldn’t exactly call the compass lucky, though. And if it was before, it surely isn’t now.

“Actually, um. He was shot after he bought it…” John B informed. “Then the compass was shipped back to Henry.” He continued guiding you all through the timeline, pointing to the next picture. “Henry was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass.” You happened to look up at the exact same time as Pope, the two of you locking eyes with visible worry. “After he died, the compass was given to Stephen. Stephen had it when he died in Vietnam.” The boy ranted. “After that, Stephen passed the compass down to my dad.” 

“This is painting a very bad picture, JB…” You warned, hand on the back of your neck as your face twisted.

“Yeah, he has a death compass.” Pope deadpanned.

“I do not.” John B denied, rolling his eyes and sitting down in the nearest chair with the compass still in hand. “My dad used to talk about this compartment here.” He explained, fiddling with the article between his fingers. “Soldiers used to hide secret notes.” He twisted the back of it off, revealing a word scratched into the top. He sat up with surprise as he spoke. “...This is my dad’s handwriting.” 

Pope scoffed. “How can you know that?”

“He’s right.” You assured the doubtful male absentmindedly, squinting your eyes and craning your neck down to see the word written into the metal. “Big John had horrific handwriting and his R’s always had a point to them. I always used to think they looked like big-headed baby chicks, in a way. That’s definitely his handwriting.”

“Weird observation…but she’s right.” John B backed you up, his eyes going back to the compass. “Redfield…” He muttered. “What’s Redfield? Is it a clue?”

“A clue? C’mon that’s-” Pope began until you shot him a nasty glare, silently telling him to be helpful and supportive or shut up. His eyes widened as he gulped. “If it is a clue, m-maybe it’s an anagram?”

“Yes!” John B jumped up from his seat, beckoning you all to back up some. “Anagram. Perfect. You need paper.” He directed at Pope, eyeing scanning the cluttered space. Handing the boy an old, crinkled sheet of notebook paper, Pope got to work with the help of JJ and Kiara as John B and you scoured the desks for anything else of use.

Your ears were quick to pick up on the sound of an engine over the chatter of the brainiac bunch behind you. Eyes perking up to see a black truck pulling onto the yard.”...Guys?” You spoke, but not loud enough. “Guys!” You shushed them, all eyes turning to you. “Somebody’s here.”

The five of you crowded around the window, peeking through the blinds and peering through the dusted glass. Two males got out of the car and you recognized them immediately. “Those are the guys from The Marsh and Lana’s house.”

John B was quick to turn towards JJ. “Where’s the gun?”

“I don’t know-”

“Now you don’t have the gun? The one time we need the gun?” Kiara panicked.

“It was in my backpack and then I-...it’s on the porch.” JJ quickly realized, sighing before biting his lip out of frustration.

“Go. Go get it.” John B urged quietly but you were quick to step up, tugging the short sleeve of JJ’s shirt before he could open the door.

“No, no, we are not sending JJ out there to be pummeled by square troopers, square groupers, whatever they are-”

“We need the gun-” The bandana-wearing boy hissed.

“I don’t care. We stay put. We stay together.” You insisted. But JJ gently swiped your hand down and backed out of your reach, one hand up in surrender. “What’re you doing-”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I’m like a ninja-”

“JJ.” You said simply, disappointed as you curled your fist in annoyance.

“I’ll be on my Batman shit.” He whispered before leaving the room quietly with the door cracked behind him, allowing you all to see him leave.

“John Routledge!” A country man’s voice boomed, causing JJ to turn around and slide his way back into the room quietly before he’d even made it two steps outside of the office. “C’mon out now!” JJ closed and locked the door as you all heard the pairs of footsteps enter The Chateau. The men began smashing and throwing things around just as they did Ms. Lana’s house. Was this their MO or something?

‘Window’ Kie mouthed, pointing to the window that led straight into the yard, towards the chicken coop and the surf shack. JJ and Pope rushed over to it as John B held down the door, which was just him standing against it with his hands above his head. JJ and Pope tried to lift the frame but it wouldn’t budge. Your face twisted in confusion, walking over to where the two boys were struggling and attempting to pull up the window seal yourself with no better luck.

“It’s painted shut.” You couldn’t help but smack your teeth, cursing under your breath as your eyes quickly scanned the room for something sharp as you patted the back of your shorts, feeling an object in your pocket. Digging your hand in to reveal a pen, the one you’d been using to journal that morning. You whispered for the guys to move before ejecting the pen and sliding it quickly along the seal to break it as quickly as possible. 

Suddenly, one of the square groupers began kicking the door down, John B running across the room.

“Hurry!” Kiara whispered.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” You hissed. When the seal was completely broken, you wasted no time in opening the window, being the first to jump down into the backyard and making a b-line for the coop. The five of you piled inside one by one, the space surprisingly big enough for five fully grown teenagers as you crouched in tense silence. Just then, you heard a shot ring out from the inside of the house, assuming the man shot the door down.

Everyone could hear everyone breathing, shaky breaths all throughout the small enclosure. And the roosters. One rooster would not stop crowing. You were hoping, praying the damn thing would stop making noise. It wasn’t long before the guys were seen leaving the house, carrying at least two crates of books and research each.

“Pope, shut him up.” JJ demanded, referring to the rooster next to Pope that was making the most noise.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Pet it or something, I don’t know.” Kie cried. Suddenly , JJ got up and grabbed the rooster by its neck, pressing it into the ground until its neck audibly snapped and its clucking ceased. You couldn’t help but cringe and look away, the sight somehow prompting you to gag. JJ’s eyes met yours as if he was making sure you were okay, you giving him a sickly nod in return. One that wasn’t as reassuring as you hoped. Kie was crying silently and you didn’t miss the way John B grabbed her hand in comfort. 

“WHAT BETTER PLACE TO HIDE A MESSAGE THAN A FAMILY HEIRLOOM?” John B tried to muse from the driver’s seat of The Twinkie.

“Maybe somewhere more easily accessible.” You said bluntly, laying back on the floor of the van, your foot on Pope and head in JJ’s lap, Kiara in the passenger seat. “Like a hidden jewelry box compartment or a locked drawer. Not inside of a death compass on a dead man’s sunken boat.”

John B simply ignored you. “He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?” He spoke hopefully, referring to his father. 

“It’s possible.” Kie agreed from the passenger seat next to him, not wholeheartedly however. 

“It could also be possible that you’re concocting wild theories to help deal with your sad feels- Ow!” Pope was interrupted when you kicked his knee, shooting him a glance that said ‘what the hell'. 

“You know how I process my sad feels,” JJ started, your eyes drifting to him as your head craned slightly back from its place atop his thighs. “Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies.”

“Preach.” You agreed, dapping up the blonde boy.

“Look, I’m not concocting, okay?” John B nearly shouted in frustration. “My dad’s trying to give me a message.” 

“...If it helps you believe, John B.” Kiara tried softly. 

“I don’t need a therapy session. I’m not trippin’ out.” He dismissed the four of you. “My dad is missing, okay? Missing. You guys don’t know what it’s like to have the person closest to you vanish and have no idea what happened.”

Suddenly, the two pairs of eyes in the back of the van turned to you. You couldn’t help but curl in on yourself slightly. “Stop it.” You demanded, averting your eyes to the window, watching the palm trees pass by. You hated when they acted like you had to be shielded from things because of what happened to your dad. 

“It’s been almost a year.” Kiara nudged JB, letting it go. “But fine. What do you think the message is?”

“Redfield.” The brunette reiterated hopefully. “Redfield Lighthouse. My dad’s favorite place.”

THE LIGHTHOUSE LOOKED A BIT DIFFERENT THAN YOU REMEMBERED. It looked older, more rickety. You could swear it was leaning now. The five of you stood staring up at it before John B turned around to face JJ.

“You’re gonna post up out here and look for bogey’s. Alright?”

“Wait, why me?” JJ asked pitifully.

“...JJ, there are independent variables and dependent variables. You’re an independent variable-” Pope tried to reason.

“Shut up.” The blonde-haired boy dismissed with a snarl.

“We don’t know what you’re gonna do!” 

“Just shut up!”

“Listen to me,” John B broke the boys up, pointing an assertive finger. “Pope, you stand lookout with JJ. Y/N, you make sure they don’t rip each other’s heads off. If we get split up, we meet back at JJ’s house.” You watched as Kiara and John B hopped over the fence and onto the lighthouse property. You slid your back against a nearby tree, one earbud placed in your ear as you drummed your fingers against your thigh, playing with blades of grass between your fingers.

“I’m gonna work on my merit scholarship essay. I’m trying to keep felonies to a minimum.”

“All right, would you just shut up already?” JJ sassed, you rolling your eyes and scoffing at them both. A few beats passed before JJ spoke again. “They’re probably boning in there right now.”

“Jesus, JJ…” You breathed out.

“What? You don’t honestly believe they don’t have a thing for each other, do you?” He defended.

“Maybe you’re just jealous.” Pope offered from his place in the grass.

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Because John B’s trying to move in on Kie and you have a thing for her.” 

“Listen, dude,” JJ started with his hands out in front of him. “Kie’s hot and all but she’s a kook. I don’t see her like that.”

“That’s what they all say.” You sang playfully, causing JJ to whip around to face you. 

“Oh, really? And what about little miss pretty & popular?”

You visibly cringed. “Ew, don’t ever refer to me like that again.”

“You’re telling me you aren’t crushin’ on someone? No rich, polo-wearing kid swept you off your feet during you and Kie’s kook year?” He egged on.

“Knock it off, JJ.” Pope defended when he saw how your face fell at the mention of it. You hated when they brought it up. Technically Kie’s kook year was longer than yours, considering you’d joined her kook friend group when you moved to Figure Eight. That was an era of your life you��d love nothing more than to forget.

“Fine, fine,” He backed off, his hands thrown up in mock surrender as he backed some steps away. Just then, the three of your heads whipped to the dirt road behind you at the sound of police sirens. You snatched the earbud out of your ear and pocketed it, standing up from your place against the tree. They were clearly headed for the lighthouse.

“What do we do? Do we wait?” Pope asked frantically.

“We can’t, man, c’mon.” JJ urged, sprinting towards the van with you and Pope following close behind. He jumped into the driver’s seat, pulling off before you and Pope had even closed the side door completely. You could only have faith that your other two friends made it out okay.

  

 “NEXT TIME YOU END UP AT THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE, YOU CALL ME FIRST. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JOHN BOOKER?” Your mother reprimanded the poor boy, her heels clacking against the pavement outside of the department. You didn’t expect a call from John B after you all had run from the lighthouse, coming from the Kildare County Sheriff’s Station from John B saying he and Kiara had been “arrested”. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He affirmed. By the time you’d arrived at the station, Kiara had apparently already left with her dad who’d refused to bail John B out as well, leaving the boy with only one other option. The three of you stopped in front of your mother’s car as she now turned to face the two of you.

“Shoupe already has enough to deal with. The sheriff’s office doesn’t need a couple of rowdy teenagers on their radar. I don’t know what you kids were doing up at the lighthouse that led to this, but drop it. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You both blurted out simultaneously, your mother having a newfound knack for intimidating people. She didn’t hesitate to jump in her car and start the engine, giving one last look as a goodbye.

YOU WERE AT THE DOCKS WAITING ON JOHN B, SITTING ON THE WOOD AND SWINGING YOUR FEET. You’d gone with him when he realized it was time for him to work, an employee saying Ward was looking for him as soon as the pair of you had arrived. He was up on The Druther’s, Ward’s boat, talking to the man himself. You couldn’t tell what the conversation was from your seat on the docks, so you waited. It was only minutes before the boy himself came stomping down the marina, prompting you to get up and dust yourself off.

“Is everything okay-”

“I just got fired.” He blurted, not even making eye contact with you and he brushed past you. You stuttered at his passive nature, scurrying to follow behind him.

“What do you mean you just got fired?”

“Ward found out about the gear.” He scoffed, and even with his back to you as he breezed through the working people to leave the dock, you could almost feel his frustration. “I can’t believe her.” He muttered.

“Who? Who are you talking about, John B?” You soon got your answer as Sarah Cameron walked by, you and the girl making brief eye contact with a mutual snarl on both of your lips before her attention turned to John B, who she somehow saw after you. 

“Hey, John B.” She greeted, her hands full of paper bags that were filled to the brim with groceries, a large, brimmed hat on the top of her head. You weren’t surprised when he continued walking as you followed without a word to the girl, but she persisted. “That’s it?” Sarah scoffed. “Not a ‘hey, how you doin’’? Not a ‘kiss my ass’?”

You didn’t expect John B to turn around and swiftly walk over to the girl, getting all in her face. With the noise of the busy marina in the back, their close conversation became hushed but it was still audible enough.

“Your secret’s safe with me? Really?” Your friend pressed the girl. “I just got fired because of you. And I know you can’t imagine that but some people need jobs, so they can eat.” Nothing shocked you more than when he smacked the bag of goods from her arms, leaving Sarah stunned as fruits rolled in front of her sandals. Her jaw slack and eyes wide.

“What the fuck?” She hollered.

“You are exactly who I thought you were, Sarah Cameron.” He reprimanded, turning and leaving behind a stunned kook girl. Although, you would’ve paid money to see that again, it was such an odd interaction.

You knew he worked on Ward’s boat so he was bound to come across her but you weren’t aware they really talked. If you didn’t know either of them, you’d assume they were a high school couple arguing out in public.

The brunette brushed past you once again, taking his time and seemingly building up the courage to break into a run.

“Wh- John B!” You called from your place in the parking lot. “John B, where are you going?!” But it was no use as he simply left you behind and continued sprinting away. You figured you’d just give him some space to himself.

YOU’D RECONNECTED WITH POPE AND JJ SOON AFTER BEING LEFT IN THE DUST BY JOHN B, meeting them on the docks in The Cut. The three of you had been there for some hours, you helping Pope fix a generator while JJ smoked unhelpfully to the side when John B pulled up in The Twinkie.

He honked, beckoning the three of you into the van with a finger and none of you questioned what was happening or where you were going as you hopped into the rickety vehicle. You were mildly pissed about being left at The Marina but you got in nonetheless.

THE SUN HAD SET AND YOU ALL STILL HADN’T ARRIVED YET. John B briefly explained the destination and plan but you half-listened. You’d been driving for a long time, picking up Kiara along the way, with no clue as to where the five of you were going.

“Do you mind if I sit this one out?” JJ asked tiredly. “It’s been a long, weird day…”

“Look, I know I was wrong about the lighthouse.” John B acknowledged. “And wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing — my dad is trying to tell me something.”

Just then you pulled up to a graveyard, the five of you piling out of the van with a flashlight each in your hand. “This place is scary.” Kie voiced. “John B, what are we doing?”

“You know how you’re trying to remember a song but you can’t remember who sings it?” He started. “Redfield. This whole time, I thought it was a place.” He explained as you all followed him further into the mess of graves and tombstones. “But it’s not.” He held the lantern in his hand up once you all stopped in front of a tomb, one of the tallest ones in the yard, revealing “REDFIELD” engraved in the stone. “It’s a person. My great-great-grandmother, Olivia Redfield. That was her maiden name.” He spoke longingly, looking up at the stone letters. “Help me with the door. C’mon.”

Pope stepped forward as the remaining three of you flashed your lights in the pair’s direction as they attempted and failed to push the tomb door open. 

“Are you pushing?” Pope said to the brunette.

“Yes, I’m pushing.” John B strained out. Then JJ was jumping into help but even with his addition, the boys had no luck opening the door. They all jumped back when a snake hissed, peeking its head out from a crack in the stone structure.

“Woah! That’s a moccasin, alright” JJ started, jumping back almost cartoonistically. “Ye-old cottonmouth. Death in tall grass. Roof! Roof!” JJ started barking at the snake. Sometimes, you questioned his sanity.

“JJ! Shut up!” You warned the erratic blonde. 

“You’re gonna wake the dead.” Pope slapped him on the shoulder, grimacing.

“Dude, they’re afraid of dogs. Everybody knows that.” He breathed out, straightening himself back out.

“Look, John,” Pope sighed, turning his attention back to John B. “We’re not gonna get in there, it’s not budging. We should probably just go.”

You were examining the tomb carefully, flashlight trailing the structure up and down before you noticed something. “I think I can get through.”

“...What?” John B spoke.

“You think you’re gonna fit through that hole?” Pope asked, worried. 

“I’ll do it.” You reassured them, ignoring their concerns. “Just help me up.” They all shuffled to help you up — Kiara and John B holding the vines away and to the sides while JJ and Pope intertwined their hands for you to use as a human step-stool. 

“What am I looking for?” You inquired, eyes fleeting to John B.

“You’ll know when you see it.” Your hands slapped your thighs. Helpful, you thought, but you didn’t ask anymore questions. You put your flashlight in between your teeth, like a dog carrying a bone before laying a hand on each of the boys shoulders, you put your foot over their connected hands and boosted yourself up. 

It was a tight squeeze but you made your way through, landing on your feet and removing the flashlight from your teeth. It took your eyes a minute to adjust, staring at the walls of the spooky space.

“You alive in there?” JJ called.

“Alive and kickin’.” You called back, aiming the flashlight everywhere, scanning over everything. But the space was much bigger than you thought and your one flashlight didn’t seem to be enough. “I need more light, please.”

“Gotcha’.” John B said, pushing his arm holding the lantern through the crack of the wall, illuminating the space by tenfold. And that light was just what you needed. 

“Oh my God…” You breathed out. John B may not have led you all on a goose-chase after all.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm

©loveharlow.

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #obx jj #SVN #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #obx jj maybank #obx netflix #obx x reader

[mattmurdocksscars]

Snapped

Alright yall here it is! This is based off of this idea. So many of you wanted me to expand so I made a short fic of it. This is just under 2k words. Happy Sinful Sunday, my loves!

Warnings: Unprotected P in V, neck grabbing, rough sex, Matt's a little mean.

The grip Matthew Murdock had on his control was rock solid. It had to be when he believed he had the devil in him. He kept that side of him locked away in chains, only to be released on the unsuspecting scum of Hell's Kitchen. 

And lately, you.

You were an anomaly to Matt. You had come into his life and accepted him completely, devil and all. You offered up your heart, soul, and body in return and Matt had never been happier. His life was finally looking up. 

But that didn't mean he didn't still have bad days.

It had been a week from hell for Matt and it seemed like you weren't making things any easier. You seemed to tease him at every turn, knowing Matt was too busy to indulge in the sweet release you dangled in front of him. 

Saturday night he finally had enough. He was getting ready for his nightly patrol, everything but his mask on when you walked out of the bedroom in nothing but one of his button down shirts. And if that wasn't enough, you took one look at him and crossed your arms, popping your hip out. 

"Matt, are you seriously going out tonight?" 

That ironclad control of his… snapped.

Prowling forward, he backed you up until your back hit the wall, his hand wrapping around your throat. He pressed his fingers under the hinge of your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. He took a deep, low breath and rumbled quietly at the scent of you. No trace of fear, just arousal. He skimmed his nose up the side of your cheek before speaking into your ear.

"You are walking a very fine line, sweetheart. Be careful you don't overstep." He heard the uptick in your heartbeat and smirked. "Choose your next words very carefully."

"I'm just worried about you, Matt. You've had a long week and you promised me you'd take a break today and you haven't."

Matt instantly felt a little bad about snapping at you but your body language told him you honestly didn't mind. Then he remembered the ways you've been teasing him all week.

"A long week, huh? And you wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

You had the decency to look sheepish at his comment.

"I can't help it if you're just irresistible when you're riled up. Besides, I kept hoping you'd take the bait and take a break from everything. I've missed you this week." You admitted quietly. 

"Oh, now you're being demure. You weren't so sweet when you were helping to rile me up." 

"Matt, please…"

"Please what, sweetheart? Use your words." He cooed condescendingly. You narrowed your eyes at his tone.

"And if I don't?"

"Then I will tie you to the bed, put a vibrator in your pussy, and leave you there all night." He threatened making your heart lurch. You knew he meant every word and so you swallowed your pride and asked him for what you wanted.

"Please fuck me, Matt. I need it, I need you. I've missed you so much this week-" Matt's mouth descended onto yours, effectively shutting you up. He kissed you hard, all teeth and tongue. One hand stayed around your throat while the other grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. Then, he pressed his entire body into yours, making you moan into his mouth.

"Keep your hands here." Matt commanded before letting go of your wrists in favor of trailing his hand down your body. You did as he said, keeping your hands above your head. Slowly, Matt kissed his way down your jaw and neck before dropping to his knees in front of you. He pushed up the shirt you were wearing to nuzzle at your stomach and nipped at your hip bone when he realized you weren't wearing any underwear.

"Had plans, did you?" He asked. You bit your lip.

"Let's just say I was determined to get you to take a break." You admitted breathlessly. Matt hummed and kissed right above your clit, causing your breath to hitch.

"Mission accomplished, I suppose." He murmured. Before you could say anything else, Matt was pulling a leg over his shoulder and diving into your cunt. You moaned loudly as he licked a stripe up your cunt and it took everything in you to keep your hands in place. 

"Good girl. Keep those hands up." Matt broke away long enough to say before diving back in. He worked you over quickly but before you could cum, he pulled away. You whined, your body lurching at the sudden loss of stimulation. 

"Don't whine. I still remember the way you've teased me all week. The only way you're cumming tonight is on my cock and when I say so. Understand?" Matt tsked.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl. Now go lay down on the bed and spread those legs for me. Keep the shirt on." You raised an eyebrow but did as he said. It took a minute before he followed you but when he entered the room, he was naked. His movements were still very much a prowl and as he made his way to the end of the bed, he towered over you. Slowly, he crawled over you, settling in between your legs.

He leaned down and kissed you languidly, like he had all the time in the world. You could feel his dick caught between the two of you, its length hard and leaking. He ground himself against you as he kissed you, and you whimpered into his mouth. You were unsure if you were allowed to touch him so you kept your hands to yourself, gripping the sheets in your fists.

"You can touch me, sweetheart." You sighed in relief and you brought your hands up, burying them into his hair. Matt shifted his hips and then he was grinding his dick against your pussy. You both moaned at the feeling and Matt quickly lined himself up and sunk in. You cried out at the sudden intrusion and Matt cursed at the way your walls seemed to clamp down on him. 

"You okay, sweetheart? You feel so damn good." Matt panted. You whimpered and nodded.

"Please, fuck. Need you to move, baby." Matt groaned and obliged, moving his hips in a rough rhythm. He fucked you hard, one hand on your hip and the other holding himself up. With every snap of his hips, you seemed to move up the bed until you were practically crushed against the headboard. Matt kissed you through it, his lips scorching their way across your lips, jaw, and throat. 

It didn't take long for you to approach your high, your previous ruined orgasm making it easy for Matt to wind you up again. 

"Beg me for it, sweetheart. Beg me to make you cum." Matt slowed to a grind, giving you just enough to drive you higher but not enough to get you there. You couldn't help but to whine.

"Matt, please, please. I've been good for you, I've done as you asked. Please let me cum. Please." Matt smirked, the look almost feral, and slid his hand from your hip to thumb at your clit as he picked back up the pace. 

"Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Let me feel it." You cried out as you came, body locking up around Matt. He worked you through it, gritting his teeth to stave off his own orgasm. 

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it. Doing so good for me." When you finally came down from your high, Matt pulled out of you and flipped you over. You yelped at the sudden change and Matt chuckled.

"Hope you didn't think I was done with you." Matt growled as he positioned you on your hands and knees. He smoothed a hand up your spine before burying his hand in your hair and pulling, forcing you to arch your back.

"Good girl…" Matt murmured before sinking back into your heat. He set another brutal pace, fucking you hard and fast. You took it willingly, moaning and writhing beneath him. 

"Matt- God- fucking me so good. Missed you, missed this." You babble, mind gone due to the way Matt was fucking every thought out of you. Above you, Matt smirked and angled his hips so he hit your G spot with every thrust, effectively rendering you beyond words. You could do nothing but moan and whimper beneath him. Matt moaned above you, the feeling of you clenching around him almost too much.

"That's my good girl. Taking everything I give you. You're gonna make cum, baby. Are you gonna take it? Gonna let me fill you up?" 

"Yes, Matt, yes! Fuck, please! Let me feel it." Never one to take without giving, Matt slipped one hand beneath you and began thumbing at your clit again. You screamed as it shoved you suddenly over the edge. Matt groaned and came as well, buried deep within you. He slid out of you, hissing at the oversensitivity, and laid down beside you. You both just lay there panting. You felt Matt shift and then his hand was grasping one of yours.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" You asked, completely bewildered.

"For being so busy this week. I really have been neglecting you and that's-"

"Matt, be quiet. You have nothing to apologize for. You haven't been neglecting me. You're busy. I get that. There's gonna be times like this no matter what you do and I'm not going to leave you just because you have a lot going on." You told him, squeezing his hand and rolling to face him. Matt's eyes were wide and darting around, like he couldn't quite believe you really weren't going to leave him. So you tugged on his hand and pulled him in so he was laying with his head on your chest.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Murdock. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

At that, Matt couldn't help but chuckle. He positioned himself so his ear was right above your heart, listening to it pound away, proof you were alive and with him.

"I think I'd like that." He would have to get up eventually, would have to go out. But for now, cradled in your embrace, he hurt a little less and that was all that mattered to him.

#matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader

[miracleonice87]

new heights, new news, new baby

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: I've come to the conclusion that I will never be organized enough to make this a well-planned, thought-out, sequential series, so I've decided I'm just gonna post things hella outta order and then reorganize them into a chronological masterlist. deal? deal. 🤝 enjoy more daddy-to-be trav and, introducing, supportive uncle jason. takes place the day travis leaves for chiefs training camp.

warnings: mention of pregnancy / babies, mention of anxiety / sadness / loneliness, plenty of crying both happy and sad teras, swearing, I think that's it

word count: ~4,400+

___

July 22, 2023

“Now, before we get into our training camp preview and talk about some expectations for the season, Travis, you had a little something you wanted to say to the good folks at home?” Jason prompted, teeing up his brother on this week’s New Heights episode – the last they’d record before they both left for their respective camps. 

Travis nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “A little something, indeed, my brother,” he teased. “We have an announcement today, y’all! Alright nah!”

“Some new news, one might say!” Jason added, referencing the beloved segment of their podcast. 

“NEW NEWS!” Travis shouted excitedly. “Yo, can I get a drumroll please?”

Jason immediately started rolling his tongue, pretending like he had drumsticks in his hand. Travis continued, speaking over the sound. 

“This is like, the biggest announcement of my whole entire life. There were points where I never thought I’d be sharing news like this. It’s so crazy that I even get to do this right now. Gah dang. But, uh, anyway, I know we joke around here a lot, but this is a big one, folks, and I-”

Jason interrupted his brother’s emotional rambling, as well as his own sound effects. “Get to the point, please, my mouth is getting tired!” Jason picked his drumroll back up seamlessly as Travis giggled like a schoolboy. 

“Alright, y’all… here we go,” Travis said, rubbing his hands together mischievously. “Mrs. Kelce, would you please come over here, sweetness?” he requested, his voice syrupy smooth as he extended a hand, inviting you into the camera shot. 

Instead of crouching to put your face into frame as you normally would for your occasional brief pop-ins to the podcast, you stood next to Travis’s chair so that only your middle was showing, your stance perpendicular to the camera so the now-round profile of your belly was clearly visible. Jason gasped as if he hadn’t already known the news for months. You rested a hand on the top of your stomach, making it unmistakable what you and Travis were announcing, and he reached his own hand out to palm your bump, which at this point he could still easily do thanks to his impossibly big hands.

He held your free hand in his, beaming up at you, then looked back to the camera. 

“We’re havin’ a baby, y’all!” he shouted, before letting out a “wooooo-eee!”

On the other end of the Zoom, Jason was clapping and whooping excitedly, matching his brother’s energy. 

Travis then patted his lap, inviting you to sit down to, one, get you off your feet and, two, make it so your face was also visible in frame. 

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, folks!” you heard Jason boom theatrically as you put on the AirPods Max that Travis had set aside for you ahead of the recording. “Wyatt and Elliotte have been asking every day since they found out what a ‘cousin’ was when they were gonna get one, asking why Uncle Travvy and Auntie don’t have babies like me and mommy, telling them they can take Bennett home with them if they wanted…”

Travis cackled, throwing his head back. “That is a true statement,” he said as he held your hips firmly. 

“1000%, can confirm,” you added, wrapping your own hands around your husband’s. He squeezed your fingers a few times, and you threw him an adoring smile over your shoulder as his brother continued. 

“And we all know Mama Kelce has been hoping for this for years now. So this is obviously something the whole extended Kelce family has been anticipating for a long time, and it’s finally here, and we couldn’t be happier for you guys,” Jason said, tone more serious now. 

“Aww, thank you, my brother,” Travis said fondly, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. 

“Yeah, thank you, Jase, so much. We’re so excited to finally give the girls a cousin!” you said. 

“Now, tell us how this happened,” Jason began. 

Travis cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Jason, when two people love each other very much-”

The older brother rolled his eyes and interrupted. 

“You know what I mean!” he insisted. “Just tell the people however much you wanna tell ‘em.” 

Travis looked to you as if silently asking for permission, and you simply gestured toward the camera. 

“Go ahead, Trav,” you said, a jesting tone to your voice. “I know it’s something you’re very proud of, so please share with the class.”

With that, Travis turned back toward the camera and waggled his eyebrows, getting as close to the mic as possible. 

“Well, folks… we made us a Super Bowl baby,” he said dramatically before letting out his signature cackle. You simply deadpanned to the camera, Jim Halpert-style, and shrugged.

Jason nodded emphatically. “You suuure did,” he said with a knowing laugh. “You knew I was having a kid right after the Super Bowl and you wanted to jump on the train.” 

You and Travis exchanged a devilish glance.

“Yeah, something like that,” you joked, knowing that jumping on Jason and Kylie’s train by conceiving a baby mere days before she gave birth to their third was certainly not your original plan. “I mean, what better Super Bowl souvenir could you ask for than a baby?!” you said wryly, causing Travis to look into the camera haughtily. 

“A Lombardi, a ring, and a kid,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “Alright nah,” he repeated, far too pleased with himself. 

“That’s awesome,” Jason said, still smiling. “Now, how are you feeling? I know it was a tough road there at first.” 

You nodded, and you felt Travis’s hold on your waist tighten protectively, maybe even subconsciously. “Yeah, I was pretty sick there for a few months, couldn’t get ‘out of the house’ a whole lot, much to this podcast’s dismay, but thankfully, that mostly passed when my first trimester ended,” you explained. “We don’t wanna necessarily share our exact due date, but I’ll say I’m well into my second trimester now and I’m feeling good. I’ve gotten to enjoy not only just the relief of feeling better but also the excitement of sharing this with friends and family – obviously, Mama and Papa Kelce, you and Kylie, all my family, and we just started telling the team, too, which has been really fun.” 

“Aww, that’s the best,” Jason remarked. “What was Big Red’s reaction?”

Travis piped up at the mention of his head coach. “Uh, to no one’s surprise, he looked me dead in the eye with the most serious fucking look on his face and said, ‘surprised it took ya this long, son,’” he revealed in his best Andy Reid voice, making you shake your head in amusement. 

“Yep, nope, does not surprise me one bit,” Jason said, giggling. “And what about your boy Mahomes?”

“Aw, man, Pat was so pumped up, and Brittany, too,” Travis replied. “Pat just started runnin’ laps around his kitchen yellin’ ‘let’s go! let’s fucking go!’ He ‘bout knocked me over!” 

“Yeah, those two have tagged us with babysitting duty on the regular for a couple years now, ever since Sterling was born, hoping that we would catch that baby fever and give her a playmate,” you added, laughing as you looked down at Travis. “I can’t say that’s necessarily what happened, but, um, either way, Sterling and Bronze will have another little team buddy to play with here soon which will be so fun to see. Brittany and Patrick have both been so great for both of us, just letting us know kind of what to expect, things that you might not learn in all the books or from your parents who did this a few decades ago. Especially with us all being on the same team, even just getting the lowdown on the logistical stuff, those two are just the best. They’re super excited for us which is just a really great feeling.” 

“No doubt – I’ve got a feeling this will bring you guys even closer,” Jason mused.

“Absolutely – already has,” Travis said. “So, yeah! That’s the big ‘New News’ for today, everybody. We’ve been keeping this on the DL for quite some time, and we just wanted to be able to share this ourselves in the way we choose, because obviously with camp starting tomorrow and the season just right around the corner, cameras might catch some footage of Mrs. Kelce visiting camp, in the stands, whatever, and we didn’t want people to be weird, so… y’all heard it here first!”

“Damn straight,” Jason asserted. “And just one more thing… I wanted to say, before our mom-to-be hops off here. I, uh… aw, fuck, I swore to Kylie I wasn’t gonna cry,” he said, sniffling as he fixed his eyes toward the ceiling, blinking repeatedly. 

“Aww, Jase!” you murmured as you watched him tear up. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he assured, still sniffling as he continued. In the corner of the screen, you could see your husband beginning to well up, too, and you caressed his thigh soothingly as he sat in poignant silence. “I just wanted to say that when Travis told us the news, that was truly the happiest I have ever seen my brother – and this dude has been drafted to the NFL, he’s been a Pro Bowler, All-Pro, broken so many records, won two Super Bowls. But by far, the happiest and most excited I’ve ever seen this guy is telling us that you’re having a baby. And as his big brother, that just makes me so fuckin’ proud.” 

You and Travis were both pawing at fallen tears by now, and Travis could only manage a quiet “thank you.” You patted his knee and, after a deep breath, shared your own thoughts. 

“Thank you, Jase, and while we’re making each other cry–” both brothers chuckled at that, “–I’ll say that I know Travis is going to be the best dad, not only because of the incredible man and husband that already he is, and the way you both were raised by your own amazing parents, but also because of the example you have set for him, Jason, by being such an awesome dad to your three girls.” You paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, and Travis rubbed your back to calm you. Jason was nodding, tears streaking his face. “So thank you for that, and for all your love and support through everything, and Kylie’s, too. You guys are gonna be the greatest aunt and uncle this kid could ever ask for, and Travis and I can’t wait to watch that.” 

Travis let out a whistle, cheeks, nose, and eyes pink from crying. “Uh, I will never make it through this episode if I add anything more to that, so I will just say, here here, baby girl,” he offered with a laugh. “We love you, brother.” 

“I love you guys, too,” Jason said as he finally regained his composure. “Whew! Yeah, how the fuck are we supposed to keep recording after all that?! Can we just be done? I am emotionally exhausted. I need a nap.” 

As Travis giggled boyishly, you agreed, “I do, too, so I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Thanks for having me, guys; thanks for giving me a baby, Trav; and good luck at camp, Jase. We’ll talk soon.” 

Travis tapped the outside of your thigh pointedly, his frequent way of silently requesting a kiss. You grasped his chin to peck his lips as Jason thanked you and said a final goodbye. 

“Have a good nap, mama,” Travis cooed as you took off your headphones and returned them to their original spot. “Daddy’ll be up as soon as we’re done,” he added playfully.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you stood up and exited the frame. 

“Oh, Jesus, he’s already calling himself ‘Daddy,’” Jason complained with a weary sigh.

___

Normally, after wrapping an episode, Travis would bound up the stairs and infuse your home with all the leftover energy he had built up during the podcast recording with his brother. One of your favorite things about him co-hosting the podcast, in addition to loving the scheduled opportunity it created for him to connect with his brother, was how buoyant of a mood he was always in after a recording.

But today, the feeling that settled over your household when he wrapped the episode about an hour after your surprise guest appearance was much less chipper.

Today, Travis trudged upstairs to do the one thing he’d been dreading all summer – say his goodbyes to you before leaving for training camp. Though camp at Missouri Western State University was only about an hour from your home in the outskirts of Kansas City, he wouldn’t be home again for five days; instead, he’d be staying on campus with the team and bunking in a dorm. Normally, departing for camp and knowing he’d be spending days on end with his teammates focusing on making themselves better football players excited him, save for a hint of sadness about being away from you, but this particular camp, having to leave his five months pregnant wife at home, he was not looking forward to by any stretch of the imagination. 

When Travis pushed open the basement door, he found you lounging on the couch with your back to him, legs outstretched on the plush cushions as you cradled your bump, some version of the Housewives franchise playing on the TV in front of you. You tipped your head back onto the arm of the couch in order to see him and asked, “how’d it go?” 

He took advantage of your position to rest his thumbs on your cheekbones and give you an upside-down “Spider-Man kiss.” 

“Went great,” he answered curtly, a vastly different response than the pumped-up recap you normally received. “That was the easy part of today,” he added, gazing down at you with his brow furrowed. Even upside-down, he was struck by your captivating beauty, which only tightened the lump already forming in his throat. 

Did he really have to fucking do this?

You groaned, drowning in your own feelings of dread, and sat up, signaling the dogs at your feet to follow your lead. You reached out your hands in order to allow Travis to help you up from the couch and gave him your bravest face as he did so. 

“I’ll walk you out,” you said, feigning confidence. But the crack in your voice when you added “can’t have you showing up late” revealed the crack in your armor, and you watched Travis’s chin drop to his chest, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he forced himself to take one… step… at a time closer to the front door. 

One foot in front of the other, Travis.

You led the way, fluttering your eyelashes repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. The dogs circled your feet as you attempted to walk out the front door, and Travis, fearing a fall, whistled and called them back into the house, patting both their heads as he passed.

When the two of you reached Travis’s Range Rover, already packed with all he needed for camp – duffels full of clothes and shoes, an array of video game consoles, deck of cards and set of pong balls for the inevitable team drinking games, and all his favorite snacks, along with a secret handwritten note you’d tucked into his toiletry kit in order to surprise him upon his unpacking – you stood a couple of feet apart, quiet, your husband shuffling his feet beneath him as you shifted your weight uncomfortably from side to side. You gazed up at him helplessly, a rigid, lips-only smile fixed on your face, and he took this moment for yet another reveal, sifting through his shorts pockets to find what he’d grabbed on the way out the door.

“I know this sucks, sweetness, but… I do have a surprise for you…” He dangled a set of keys in front of you which you noticed were not his. 

“New car?” you teased halfheartedly, recognizing the worn key fob to your Porsche after a moment. 

“Mm, not quite, we got a baby on the way, ya know? Gotta save that coin,” Travis teased right back. “I think it’s better than a new car.” 

You raised your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly. He let it marinate in your brain for a few more moments, finally breaking when you threw your arms around his waist, pressing your baby bump to his torso, and whined his name. He beamed. 

“Alright, alright, you know that’s gonna work every time now,” he admitted, giggling. He caressed your jaw with his knuckles and you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re sad because I’m leavin’, but you gotta get on the road, too… because you gotta go pick up your mama from the airport.” 

You gasped, covering your mouth with both hands. 

“Really?” you whispered after a stunned pause. 

“Really,” he confirmed, nodding. 

You’d only seen your mom once since finding out you were having a baby, and Travis had noticed that your pregnancy had you feeling more homesick than usual. Especially with so many of the Chiefs better halves, who would best understand this phase of your life, having scattered for the offseason, and with Travis’s own mom and sister-in-law living halfway across the country, he felt awful that you didn’t have your mom nearby during this exciting, but unsettling, time. Knowing, too, that you always struggled being apart from him in those first few days of training camp, he had preemptively arranged for his mother-in-law to arrive in Kansas City just as he departed for St. Joseph, hoping that that would alleviate at least some of your loneliness at this delicate time when you were already feeling unusually vulnerable. 

Travis melted when you threw your arms around him again, this time desperately, not jokingly. He rubbed your back, beaming when he heard you whimper, “thank you.”

“Of course, sweetness,” he replied warmly, burying a kiss in your hair. “Anything to keep baby mama happy.”

You giggled, resting your chin on his sternum and tipping your head up to look at him. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty good at that,” you praised, fondness thick in your tone as you rested a hand against his neck. “When does she land?” 

Travis glanced at his watch. “Just over an hour,” he informed you. “So don’t rush. You got plenty of time.” A proud smile slowly stretched across his face as he added, “I got a lot of fun stuff planned for y’all this week.”

Your eyebrows lifted, your excitement building by the minute, and Travis watched your face light up with each word as he continued. 

“You guys are gonna do a spa day tomorrow, got you a suite at the Royals game the next night, then you’re gonna come see me at camp, obviously, because I wanna see Mama, too. And then you’re gonna go run around and do your registry for your baby shower, because she knows all the stuff we’re gonna need, and weeee… do not,” he admitted, laughing. 

The corners of your mouth pulled down as your face contorted, eyes welling with tears, and Travis could see that you were overwhelmed with emotion, humming a laugh as he guided the side of your head to rest against his chest. 

“And that’s why I waited to tell you – because I knew you’d cry every other hour ‘til she got here,” he told you, only half joking, as he hugged you tight.

A giggle bubbled forth from your lips. “You were right, like always,” you said, voice tight, so appreciative of how well this man knew and cared for you. “You’re so thoughtful, Trav, thank you so much.” 

“I mean it when I say literally an-y-thing for you,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. “I love you so much,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. And after a deep sigh, he regretfully mumbled, “And now I gotta go.” 

You pushed away from him slowly, your left hand lingering on his broad chest as he looked down at you with what had to be the saddest expression you’d ever seen him wear. He gathered your hand in his and pressed a lengthy kiss to your wedding rings, then the skin around them. 

“Go be great,” you whispered, smoothing your other hand over his stubbly cheek.

Travis’s eyes closed and he drew a deep breath, committing the feeling of your touch to his memory. With a final squeeze of your fingers, he forced himself to back away and open his driver’s side door. 

As he climbed into the seat, he pointed at you and said firmly, “You and that baby stay safe while I’m gone, alright?” 

You nodded weakly, trailing a hand from the top of your bump to the underside. “We’ll do our best, Daddy,” you promised as he shut his door, the window rolled down. 

At that, Travis’s eyes filled with tears – he had known it was only a matter of time until it would hit him, leaving you for the first time for more than a day since you’d found out you were expecting. And seeing you, hand on your belly, standing in the driveway alone as he started his car and prepared to pull away for the better part of a week… yeah, that did it. 

He blew out a controlled breath through pursed lips, putting every ounce of his will into putting the car in drive and coasting toward the front gate to leave. 

He could see your lower lip quivering even from afar, and it sent a zing of anxiety through his entire being — though he’d never enjoyed saying goodbye, he’d never once felt anxious leaving you for camp. Until today.

“I love you, Mama,” he called out the window, inching slowly toward the gate. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

You nodded. “Okay,” came out in a croak. “I love you, too.” 

“Be good,” he forced out. 

You nodded again, but didn’t trust your voice to allow you to respond with words. You simply waved one last goodbye as he did the same, forcing a signature Travis Kelce smile and wink while simultaneously trying to keep his shit together in front of you.

But as he passed through the gate and down the drive, watching you shrink into the rearview mirror and finally disappear as he turned toward the freeway, his breath caught in his throat and he broke down, tears blurring his vision as he pressed ahead down the familiar route. For a minute or two, he simply let the sobs wrack his body as he swiped at the ever-flowing tears with the back of his hand, letting out the occasional frustrated growl, usually saved for a missed ball in the end zone. As he attempted to calm himself down, he glanced at the recent calls list on his car’s hands-free device.

And, moments later, in suburban Philadelphia… 

Jason hadn’t been off Zoom for more than twenty minutes when his phone rang with a call from his kid brother. Smirking knowingly at the screen, he situated five-month-old baby Bennett in her bouncy seat and tapped the green button.

“Figured I might be hearing from ya,” Jason answered the call.

Sniffling and confused, Travis blinked a few times. 

“You did?”

Jason let out a chuckle. “Yeah, you just said goodbye to her and now you’re, what, three miles down the road to camp?” 

Travis was quiet and rubbed a heavy hand over his face. 

“Five, but… yeah,” Travis mumbled.

Jason hummed as if impressed, gazing at his oldest two daughters who he swore just yesterday could barely hold their own heads up and were now talking animatedly amongst themselves as they dressed and posed Barbie dolls in their prized pink Dreamhouse. “Well, then, you made it two miles further than I did before I called Mom my first training camp when Kylie was pregnant with Wy, so, props.”

“Really?” Travis inquired.

“Hell yeah, dude. It’s the worst fuckin’ feeling,” Jason responded, the sensation still visceral. “Leaving your wife and unborn baby to go live in a dorm with a bunch of sweaty dudes… it goes against every instinct in your body.” 

“Yeah, for real… And I used to love camp, too,” Travis sighed. “I just feel so guilty, man.” 

“I know. But you’re doing it to provide a sick ass life for her and that baby — you’re making sure they’re set for life,” Jason reminded him. “You just gotta focus on that as best you can.” 

The smallest of smiles pulled at Travis’s lips. “That what Mom said to you?”

“Of course — you think I came up with that on my own?” 

Travis giggled at that — the way only a big brother could make you do, even in the midst of misery. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Trav. I promise you,” Jason told him firmly. “You did the right thing flying her mom in; she knows who to call in the off-chance something does go wrong; and… uh… and she knows she’s got our support because she’s calling Kylie right now,” Jason finished, handing his wife’s phone to her as she approached the coffee table where she’d heard it ringing. 

“Is she really?” Travis asked, both relieved and more upset knowing that you, too, were seeking comfort from his brother’s experience with Kylie. 

Jason and Kylie shared a sympathetic glance before she answered your call, and as he walked down the hall out of her earshot to allow you both privacy, Jason replied, “Sure is. And as you know, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to lean on right now. This isn’t easy by any means, but we’re here for you guys. So are Mom and Dad, Brittany and Pat, so many others. Remember, this is day one — it does get easier from here.”

Travis trilled his lips as he exhaled, his body already relaxing thanks to his brother’s encouraging words. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, that’s a great point,” Travis conceded. “Thank you, bro. I appreciate you more than you know.”

“Anytime, Trav. Always in your corner. Love you, brother. I’ll check in when I’m back at camp too.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Love you, Jase. Bye.”

#kissing kelce #travis kelce #jason kelce #travis kelce fic #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction

[lnfours]

inclinations (mirrorball) | l.n

summary: a story told in two parts: summer and autumn. summer held the whirlwind romance that came crashing down too soon. autumn brought the repercussions of young love and learning how to fall in love all over again.

au: childhood friends to lovers, uni!au

warnings: fluff, some subtle hints at what's happening with flo if you squint, a little bit of angst if you squint, language, things are getting... interesting.

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₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"so, how was your night with my brother?"

the question you had been avoiding all morning. flo had you sitting at her vanity, the various styling tools sitting on the surface in front of you as you watched her concentrate.

you hummed, "was alright," you said, "how was yours? can't ask me to keep lando and then not tell me who you had over."

your teasing smile reflected back at her as she matched it, furrowing her eyebrows, "some guy that's been in my dms, that's all."

"oh, come on!" you laughed, "what's his name? what's he like?"

she shook her head, "it was just a one night thing, i don't know if i'm going to see him again."

you could tell she was bluffing, but you decided not to press about it any further. if she wanted to tell you the details, she would've by now.

"back to you, though," she continued, "what happened last night?"

you shook your head, "nothing."

"please, he was literally beaming when he got home last night," she said, "and you're glowing right now. something had to have happened between the two of you."

you sighed, your phone buzzing on your lap. you tapped on the lockscreen, almost immediately locking it again when you saw the name pop up in your notifications.

lando.

you looked back up in the mirror, meeting her eyes in the reflection as she smiled softly at you, "we uhm... we kissed."

she gasped loudly, "you kissed!?"

you licked your lips nervously, it wasn't like she was unaware of the whole situation between you and lando, but it still felt awkward to tell her you were slowly falling in love with her brother, "yeah,"

"oh my god," she smiled, "finally! i've been waiting for this for so long."

you laughed with her, "me too, flo. me too."

your phone buzzed again against the skin of your thigh. you looked down at the screen again, another text from him lighting up.

lando

good morning ☀️ see you soon?

you were quick to type back a response, telling him you'd see him downstairs in a few. he put the thumbs up reaction to your text before you locked it once again.

you weren't sure why, but you were nervous all over again. something about him made you giddy and nervous and brought out the grade-school-like crush you've had on him since you were old enough to realize boys didn't actually have cooties.

once flo was satisfied with how she styled your hair, she smiled in the reflection next to you. you both smiled at each other, another happy summer with your favorite people. there wasn't much to complain about.

you two walked down the stairs, arms linked. you smiled as max and landos' heads immediately whipped to look at the staircase upon hearing your footsteps. they stood from the couch, lando's eyes meeting yours as you stood in front of him now.

flo walked over to talk to max, the two laughing as lando's eyes took everything about you in, his way of memorizing this exact moment. his way of silently wishing he could take pictures with his mind.

"you look," he paused, trying his best to keep from falling on his knees and asking you to marry him then and there, because he would, "absolutely beautiful."

your head tilted towards the floor, smiling as you brushed a piece of hair behind your ear, "thank you, you look beautiful, too."

he laughed, the uneasy tension now turning to dust, "thank you."

you smiled, watercolored eyes meeting yours before max put an arm on his shoulder, "mate, let's eat. 'm starving."

lando nodded towards his friend, offering you his arm. you smiled, holding onto his forearm as you followed flo and max into the dining room. everyone smiled and bid hellos upon your entrance into the room, your mom getting up to give the kids she considered her nonbiological children hugs.

the brunch was perfect, as always. the food cisca had made was delicious, mimosas perfectly topped off each time, and good conversation, as always. just like it had been every year for as long as you could remember.

"lando, i heard you're living in monaco," your mother smiled, "how is it? you like it?"

he nodded, swallowing a sip of water from his glass, "love it. it's great, can't wait for you guys to visit one day so i can show you around."

you smiled at the boy next to you, your mother speaking for you, "we'd love to, honey."

"oh, y/n," cisca smiled, "how's new york? still okay?"

you nodded, "i mean, it's definitely still growing on me," you joked as everyone chuckled softly, "but it's been great so far. my roommate is awesome, i'm having a really good time."

she nodded, smiling at you with bright eyes, just like her son had smiled at you multiple times in the past, "i'm happy for you, love."

you thanked her, all of you helping clean up the table once everyone decided they were full on all sorts of breakfast foods. you were in the kitchen, helping your mom wash the dishes when lando's figure appeared in the doorway.

you smiled over at him, "yes?"

he nodded towards the back door, "wanna go for a walk?"

you turned back to your mom, but she was already reaching for the plates in your grasp as she smiled, "go,"

"you sure?"

she rolled her eyes playfully, laughing, "yes! now, go!"

you smiled as you followed him out the back door and onto the patio. he led you down the steps of the deck, you kicking your shoes off as the two of you walked towards the beach.

he took your shoes from your grasp, slipping his free hand into yours as the two of you trudged through the sand, "do you want to go on a date?"

you smiled over at the curly haired brunette, "a date date?"

he nodded, "yes, a date date," he laughed softly, "'re you busy tomorrow night?"

you shook your head, turning to stand in front of him. the sun was bright against the ocean, the waves crashing against the shore peacefully. his eyes were bright in the natural light, the silver of his necklace glimmering in the july sun.

everything right here, right now, was peaceful. for the first time in a long time, you were content, perfectly content with life. nothing in the world could ruin this for you.

"i'd love to," you smiled, "pick me up at 7?"

he nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "sounds good, love."

your heart fluttered at the nickname. you weren't sure why, it wasn't the first time he'd call you 'love' before, but this was a different way. it was a way you had been dreaming about since you were kids, since you met the curly haired brunette boy with an accent and freckles and moles that littered his face in a pretty way.

his hand moved from behind your ear, the other one placing your shoes in the sand before reaching around the back of his neck. you watched him with furrowed eyebrows as he unclasped the hook to his necklace.

it slipped away from his collarbone as he smiled softly, moving to wrap it around your neck instead. your eyes met his blue ones again, green flecks sparkling in the summer sun as you questioned him, "lando?"

he hummed, clasping the chain with two rings around your neck, your fingers reaching up to touch the cold metal, "i want you to have it?"

"why?" you laughed softly, still unsure about what he was trying to do and why he was giving you the necklace you had given him all those years ago.

"do you remember the note you wrote when you gave it to me?"

you thought back to the little slip of paper you slipped into the box before wrapping it up and sticking a little bow on the top for his birthday.

"two rings intertwined," you smiled.

"just like our souls," he smiled back at you, "no matter how far apart we are, i want you to remember that."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, "have i ever told you that you're perfect?"

he chuckled, his snaking around your waist now, "i'm far from it."

"not to me," you shook your head, a smile still on your face, "you're everything."

he smiled, a smile you'd do anything to be on the receiving end of forever. the same boy who would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

you stood on your tiptoes, your lips meeting his sweetly as he pulled you as close as he could, leaving no room for air in between your bodies.

he pulled away, his forehead resting on yours, giggles escaping both your lips. he reached into his pocket, pulling out his buzzing phone as he excused himself, walking away to answer the phone.

you smiled, reaching up to absentmindedly play with the rings sitting perfectly against your beating heart, the one you were slowly starting to think only beat for him.

he looked over at you, almost a sad expression on his face as he talked to the other person on the phone. you sent him a questioning look before he hung up the phone, making his way back over to you.

you took his hand into yours, the two of you walking through the sand, "everything okay?"

he nodded back at you, "yeah, everything's good."

you believed him, nodding as you held onto his forearm, resting your head on his shoulder as the two of you walked back towards the house. you missed the way he licked his lips nervously, the loss of sparkle in his eyes and the soft sigh he let out when he thought about the fact he was going to have to leave once again.

or the way his heart broke slightly at the thought of him catching a flight early the next morning. he wasn't sure if he had the heart to tell you he was being dragged back into his busy life again. how could he? he just showed up and all of a sudden has to disappear again? he didn't know what to say or how to say it.

you caught onto his silence as the two of you approached the house, "you sure you're okay?"

your concern was the icing on the cake, "i have to tell you something."

you furrowed your eyebrows, the two of you turning to look at one another. you held his hand loosely in yours, giving him a soft smile, "what's up?"

"we have to reschedule that date," he sighed, "i won't be here."

you shook your head, confusion etching your facial features, "what do you mean? you're on summer break, right?"

he nodded, "supposed to be, but they want me back in england for some trainings."

"well, you'll be back, right?"

he looked away from you, shaking his head, "i don't know."

"but you just got here," you said, "they seriously can't let you have a little downtime?"

"you know my schedule isn't normal," he sighed, "you of all people i was hoping would understand."

"no, i do," you sighed, "it's just, we just figured out everything and all of a sudden you're getting shipped halfway across the world. i just, i don't get it."

"i know," he nodded, reaching out to place his hand against your cheek, "but, i'll call you every chance i get, okay? we'll make it work. promise."

you believed him again, nodding your head and leaning into his touch, "okay."

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader imagine #lando norris x reader series #lando norris series #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff imagine #lando norris fluff #friends to lovers #childhood friends to lovers #university au #mclaren f1 #mclaren formula one #lando norris series fluff #lando norris friends to lovers series #inclinations series #imagine #f1 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 series #ln4 x reader series #ln4 x reader fluff imagine #ln4 imagines

[revwatts]

Picture with Prongs.

Summery : You ask James Potter, who is your boyfriend to help you win in a not so sirius sibling rivalry. Muggleborn!reader.

Pairings : James Potter x reader

You and your sister had a cute sibling rivalry going on between you, where you send the pictures of your adventures every week and decide who had more interesting week than the other.

It was a way for you and your sister to stay bonded and stay updated on everything going on in each other's lives. Even though she's roll her eyes at all the wizard stuff you told her you knew that she'd run up to your room and get comfortable on your bed and ask all the questions about the wizarding world. She was only a minute and a half younger than you, she was practically your bestfriend. You even took James 'round your house to meet your family this summer. And your sister and him had loads of fun teasing you and roasting you about your clumsiness and dramatic attitude.

You loved both of them and seeing them bond like that made you feel not so bad about them teasing you. And then you both decided to set up a double date and you, James, your sister and her boyfriend went to a cute cafè that you both loved and had a really great time.

Coming back to present, you were holding a Polaroid that your sister sent you of her and an extremely adorable golden retriever. To say you envied her was an understatement but to top that so you can win this week's 'adventures of L/N girls' and get your picture in the 'babes through years' photo album. Cause you've been losing since last 4 weeks! And that is unacceptable! Your mum and dad sent you a letter expressing their 'disappointment' about the fact that you've gone down to the boring alley and their 'concern' that you won't ever be back and they'll loose their oldest daughter forever. Oh the blasphemy!!!!

"Hey, bub! What you thinking about, love?" Your thoughts were interrupted by James sitting beside you and kissing your temple.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how I'll top this week's 'adventures of L/N girls'." You let out a loud sigh. And handed him the Polaroid picture.

"Awhh, that's adorable." You smacked the back of his head.

"Sorry...You know you can just send her a picture of you with Hagrid. I'm pretty sure that'll be adventurous enough. Meeting a half giant." He said while serving himself a plate of the dinner served on the gryffindor house table.

"No. I can't. She knows Hagrid. Think something better James!" You smacked his arm this time.

"Stop hitting me, woman! I'm already yours. No need to hit on me." He winked at you.

"Jamie..." You stretched his name with a whine.

"Wingardium laviōsa somebody's arse up and take a picture. I'm sure a flying human will please her." He said nonchalantly and took a bite from his plate.

"Already did." You grumbled. He almost spit his food out.

"When!? Who!?" He exclaimed.

"4th year. Sirius." He let out a loud laugh.

"Oh, darling, I love you so bloody much!" He let out a loud giggle.

"I know it was pretty amazing but that's not the point here. I've gotta out do her this time. She's been winning for past four weeks." You pouted.

"Yeah well, let's just think for a while."

"Think about what?" Sirius asked as him, Remus and Peter sat down.

"She needs an idea to win this week's 'adventures of the L/N girls'" James informed them.

"Oh the pictures are here? Show me." Sirius clapped his hands together.

You gave the picture to him and he awed loudly.

"Alright, it's taking a lot in me to say this but that's the most adorable pup I've ever seen." Sirius gushed over the picture and you just banged your head on the table.

"Yeah, there is no chance you can win this week. Try next time maybe." Remus teased while piling up his plate with chicken and gravy.

"ughhh!" You let out a low groan and stared at nothing in perticular while thinking about how you can win this week. Then an idea suddenly popped into your brain making a light bulb go off.

"I know how I can win this week. Oh I'm such a genius." You wore a pretty smile on your face. You were quite proud of yourself for thinking it.

"Well, care to share it with the class?" James said while taking a bite of his chicken.

"Yeah. You see once my sister told me that she always wanted to get a picture taken while standing next to a deer. When she was a kid she used to love Bambi and she still does. So, my dear Jamie can you please, pretty please take a picture with me." You batted your eyelashes at him while making the best puppy eyes you could.

"No." To say you were shocked was an understatement. James never says no to you.

"Why?" You asked with a heavy frown.

"I'm not some kind of patting zoo animal!" He exclaimed with a blush on his face. You quickly picked up on the fact that he was shy and embarrassed of getting a picture taken in his animagus form.

"Why!?"

"Because it's... Weird... I just don't like the idea of it. Sweetie you know I'd do anything you'd ask me to. But not this. Please." His eyebrows were furrowed.

"But Jamie then I won't win." You said with a big pout and puppy eyes.

"I know doe but just not this one, okay?" He kissed the top of your head.

He didn't want to take a picture in his animagus form because he thought he looked silly. But he didn't know any better. He looked magnificent in his animagus form. A stag. With huge antlers and a beautiful face. He was perfect. And all you had to do was make him realise that. But how?

Anyways that night you were head bent on convincing him. So you did what you know how to do best. Seduce him. And let's just say you were pretty persuasive. (He made you promise a week full of blow jobs. And then he finally said yes.)

So the next day you put on a cute summer dress and set up a picnic blanket with empty basket as a set up and the marauders followed you into the dark forest.

After you reached the dark forest, James turned into his animagus form and stood clueless in the middle of the forest. When Peter tried to get a picture of just prongs he stuck his tongue out but it still turned out to be an adorable picture.

Next thing you asked Peter to take multiple pictures with you standing beside Prongs. One where you were admiring his antlers. Another one where you pat his head. One where you planted a kiss right between his two doe-eyes. James was loving this. The affection he was getting, the closeness he felt. The warmth of your hand caressing his coat. The last picture was with you feeding an apple to Prongs. But then Sirius wanted to join this picture party.

So you took a picture with a black dog smothering you in kisses and a very jealous looking pissed off stag. And another one with you standing in the middle of Padfoot and Prongs and Wormtail sitting on top of your head. Remus took that picture. Every single one of them was adorable. After you were done you went back to the castle and went to the kitchen to pick up some snacks. You owled all your pictures and joined your boyfriend on the couch infront of the fire place and cuddled in his side.

"You know guys, today I realised that you guys are the coolest and most adventurous things I have in my life. And I just feel so happy about it." James smiled down at you and gave you a long peck. And Sirius came jumping beside you and joined yours and James' cuddle party and soon you found yourself wrapped in a blanket with four amazing gentlemen. And you felt like the luckiest girl in the whole fucking world.

And ofcource you won 'the adventures of L/N girls' that week.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #james potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #james potter #remus x sirius #remus lupin #wolfstar #the marauders #sirius black #peter pettigrew #james sirius remus and peter #i love harry potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry james potter x reader

[reidspharb]

part two on the angst spencer reid (happy ending if u want) 🤞🤞

How You Get The Girl

*Part two to The moment I knew

Summary: After four days of no calls, Spencer tries his hardest to fix things with you

Word count: 1.14k

Warnings: angst, fluff, lead by pure vibes idk

Note: idk whats with me and writing at ungodly hours of the night but this one was written mostly at like 1am so any errors are due to sheer sleep deprivation! also thank you so much to anon who submitted this it was really nice to give this little story a happy ending :) also first anon ask super cool on enough of this now.

It had been 3 days 2 hours and 43 minutes since you had last spoken to Spencer. He knew because he couldn’t stop thinking about that short exchange, how you were so upset you didn’t even let him explain. 

Spencer couldn’t stop staring at his phone, picking it up every few minutes, maybe I missed the notifications he told himself.

The truth was, he knew he fucked up and he knew he hurt you and missing that party was the worst decision he had made in a long time. 

Thinking about you had consumed him so much that he found it hard to complete his work. He never used his phone at work, unless he needed to call someone for something work-related.

Of course, working with a group of profilers, people began to pick up this odd behaviour. The first to notice was his best friend JJ. 

She immediately recognized his anxious demeanour, but she just didn’t know why. After a while, she ruled out problems with his mother, and that didn’t really leave many options.

Spencer didn’t have many friends - at least that they knew of- and most likely didn’t have a girlfriend either, so what was it?

JJ approached him after their round table meeting on a case just a few miles west of Quantico. 

“Hey, Spence,” she sighed settling her hands on her hips.

“What’s up JJ?” He replied, obviously trying to act as normal and natural as possible, but it wasn’t really working. 

“Nothing, I was just wondering how you’re doing,” Immediately Spencer blushed, obviously embarrassed that his co-workers were noticing his new habits “You just seem… off. Worried. Is everything alright?”

Spencer had tried to hide his shame but clearly, it wasn’t working and he just couldn’t keep it all contained anymore. 

“No, I-“ he sighed and looked down at his feet, trying to decide what to say next. Jennifer didn’t even know about his girlfriend, how would she react knowing he hid that from her all this time and also did such a heartbreaking thing to an innocent girl.

He faked a laugh and a dull smile, “No, JJ everything’s fine! I've just been a little anxious because,” he swallowed and tried to come up with a lie as realistic and believable as possible, “I’ve just been awaiting an interview for this teaching job at Virginia Tech, and uh, they haven’t told me the date yet.” He said in a nonchalant tone, praying that JJ wouldn’t push harder.

She obviously knew he was lying, the guy was a genius but he wasn’t a very good liar. Even though she knew there was something deeper, she thought if he wanted her help, he would be honest. 

“Oh, cool! I’m sure you’ll get that response soon.” She said cheerfully before walking away and clearing the conversation out of her brain.

After the fourth day had passed Spencer knew he had to do something to make this right, the regret had nearly swallowed him whole. 

When he got off work, he drove over to the closet flower shop and purchased a rather large bouquet of your favourite flowers. He remembered when you told him that a bouquet of flowers was always the best apology.

To go along with your flowers, he purchased you a birthday card, to make up for missing the party. It was a rather cute thing, with a pop-up kitten inside, he knew you would love it even if you didn’t say it. 

He scrawled a short birthday wish into the card before starting up his car and heading in the direction of your home. 

As he drove towards your house in the darkness and rain he couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when he arrived. Would you be so angry you would throw it all in a puddle? Or would you welcome and forgive him and this would all be over. Of course, he hoped for the latter, but he would understand if you were upset by seeing his face again.

Once he had arrived, his heart raced as he stepped out of the car and headed towards the front door. When he walked up the stairs, already wet from the rain, he thought of the first time he ever strolled up those short steps and your first kiss standing right there in front of your front door.

He rapped on the door two times fast and two times slow, just like he always did. He could feel himself nearly shivering as his hands just about vibrated while he waited in that infinitely long moment for you to open the door.

He heard the chain on your door unlock and as the door swung open, he saw your face. Your tear-stained, puffy, red face. Seeing you like this almost brought tears to his own eyes.

The way you looked at him ate at him from the inside.

You sighed and looked him up and down, inspecting the flowers he was holding.

“Oh my god, Spencer. Are you insane?” You practically shrieked when you realized he was standing outside your door at 9 PM in the pouring rain. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have called first before I just showed up, but I nearly lost my mind missing you.” He said truthfully. “I was just too afraid to see you and tell you that what I did was so fucking stupid and I just really h-“

Just like you had on the phone those few days ago, you cut him off, but instead of with a snarky remark, with a hug. You nearly jumped into his arms. You didn’t care if you got wet or if the flowers got ruined, you just wanted to feel him. 

After the lengthy embrace, you let your boyfriend in. He gave you your flowers and your, now wet, card and made you both tea while you placed them in a large glass vase.

The two of you sat down on the couch and you let him explain this time, fully explain. You could feel his remorseful aura, and even though what he did sucked, you didn't care anymore, you were just so happy to have him with you.

After your long discussion, you ate leftover cake, then celebrated your birthday by binging your favourite tv shows and remembering old memories.

The following morning, Reid decided to move in with you, telling you he never wanted to be away from you at a time like that again. He hung up framed photos of you all over the house of kisses on cheeks and happy memories. He would remind you nearly every morning how much he loves what you have and wants you no matter what, for worse or for better, nearly like wedding vows.

And you can say proudly he never missed another birthday.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #ssa spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #fluff #fluff and angst #on thats enough #fanfic #Reidspharbangst #Reidspharbfluff

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

Transformers ROTB

NSFW Reader x Mirage

Just saw ROTB and Mirage changed my brain chemistry so I had to get this down ASAP while writing many other pieces of smut I hope to post soon. Please let me know what you think <3

Mirage got you back for all your teasing the second he pulled into the garage and transformed, his engine roaring in pent up frustration as he settled you on one arm and slammed the door behind him with the other. Having expected and looked forward to such rough handling, you happily allowed yourself to be hefted upwards to face your partner, his hands cupping you possesively as his optics met your eyes. The fiery need in their depths sent an echo of desire through your entire body before he pulled you in for a desperate kiss.

Moaning into your mouth, the speedster slipped a hand behind your head to hold you close as he fumbled across the garage to his berth, which was so difficult in his current state he ended up bumping his shins multiple times along the way. Each audible thump came with a hissed curse that made you snicker, but he persevered until he finally met the edge of the padded metal slab and more or less collapsed onto it. You were still in such a giggly mood you couldn't help chuckling when he muttered a euphoric "finally" as if arriving at an oasis in a desert. 

Settling you down beneath him, Mirage got the two of you on the same page with a sudden rush of kisses down your jawline, his dentae brushing the sensitive skin before he buried his helm in the crook of your neck. You arched at the touch and moaned softly for more, which he provided in the form of an unexpected bite, his tiny canines using just enough force to leave a subtle mark claiming ownership. Crying out and grabbing hold of him for support, you shivered as his warm glossa dulled the mild sting with slow swirls. Experience told you he was savoring the taste just as much as he was providing comfort. 

"Take your pants off, I've got plans." he said suddenly, lips just beside your ear. Complying with a soft sound of wanting, you wiggled out of your bottoms in a manner most would have called desperate rather than sexy. Big blue optics watched your every move with hungry intensity, and when he beheld you naked from the waist down his engine rumbled forcefully enough to rattle the berth. Throwing away your clothes without a care, you found him sliding a hand up your shirt without warning, and obediently leaned into the touch as he purred out further instructions. "Might as well toss everything you don't want me accidentally ripping to pieces."

"You'd owe me." you replied teasingly, sticking out your tongue as you rolled your top over your head. Mirage huffed with enough force to rustle the messy spread of blankets.

"You're kidding, right?!" he replied with indignant disbelief, looking all the more frustrated when you smiled innocently whilst unlatching your bra. Pretending not to be briefly subdued by the sight of your tits, the speedster continued his mock rant, recalling how the last twenty or so minutes had been nothing but you riling him up while he was helpless in his altmode. "The way you were fiddling with my gear shift in traffic? You're lucky I didn't pop my panel on that off-ramp!"

"Just a little extra motivation." you teased sweetly, tossing your last bit of clothing to the floor below.

Your incorrigible boldness briefly left him speechless. Shaking his helm with a chuckle, Mirage moved quickly to pin you to the berth below, gentle but commandingly firm as he made it clear he planned on getting even. Having expected as much, you had to bite your lip to restrain a smile, so eager for a heated pounding you could already feel yourself getting wet. Your own wanting turned to desperation when he loomed over you and cast your naked body completely in his shadow. Voice a full octave lower than usual, the mech loudly opened his modesty plating just before he rumbled out a warning. "Oh, I'm motivated alright." 

Lips met again in a passionate kiss, but this time he went straight for what he wanted, hands taking hold of either side of your body to slide downwards and savor every detail along the way. Whimpering when your breasts were teased with only a quick circling of his thumbs, you eagerly parted your legs to grant him access, looking down just as he grabbed hold of his erect spike to mass shift it to the appropriate size. Practice had allowed you to stretch sufficiently enough that he only needed to reduce his girth by a fraction of what had initially been required, and as soon as he felt himself reach the proper measurement he brought his hips to yours.

A small sound passed his lips as his tip met the heat of your entrance, and you watched his brows arch at the pleasure while his jaw went slack, helm rolling back as he finally got to push inside. Biting your lip at the stretch, you welcomed him with a moan, wrapping your legs around his hips to assure him you were ready for more. The unique array of ridges and nodes along his spike delighted you every inch of the way. Sheathing himself in one long, smooth stroke, the speedster took a moment to savor the feeling he'd been so desperate for, as overwhelmed by your tight heat as he'd been the first time. 

Instinct and experience got his hips moving, and you welcomed the first withdrawal and thrust with an appropriately excited cry, the feeling of his massive frame over your tiny human body making it all the better. Mirage growled as he finally got a hold of himself, hands splaying on the berth as he started to rock his hips and go to town just like he'd fantasized the entire way home. Tits bouncing with every thrust, you went from moaning to crying out when he activated his vibrator mods, the tiny nodes lighting up without warning to buzz against all of your sweet spots. Your wide eyes caught a smug smirk of revenge on his lips before he lost himself to a moan of his own.

Pulling him close and grinding your hips against him, you grabbed hold of his chest and held on for dear life as Mirage began to ride you for real, his vents releasing hot puffs of steam with every pound of his hips as his frame grew heated from the exertion. Making the berth rattle near to the point of threatening collapse, the speedster lost control completely in his haze of desire. Hunching over you to be as close as possible, he scooped an arm behind your back to heft you as the beginning of an orgasm coiled in your lower body, hammering right into your sweet spot as his engine roared out in exhilaration. You rewarded his creativity with a cry of his name just the way he liked it.

"Mirage!" you moaned showily, able to feel him approaching his own overload as yours built exponentially quickly. Hearing his name made the mech shudder and briefly lose control of his powers, the scene around you wobbling as his cloaking abilities surged and warped everything you could see until he wrestled back his willpower. 

"Aw shit, babe, I'm gonna..." he trailed off to bare his dentae and moan, but you knew exactly what he meant. The length of his spike throbbed inside of you, and just like that you were pushed over the edge, a rush of warmth and ecstasy crashing over your heated body as you clamped around him in a series of powerful throbs. Feeling you clench as if milking him did the poor mech in without delay. Optics briefly snapping open in surprise, he clamped them shut as his own overload hit with an accompanying surge of his EM field, blue sparks of electricity jumping over his armor as he came in an explosive burst of overdue release. The combination of his hot ropes gushing into you and your walls clamping down on his spike reduced you both to moaning wrecks unable to do much more than cling to the other.

When you felt the surge pass and the excess transfluid dribble onto the berth, you collapsed into a sweaty heap on the padding below, ribs rapidly rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. Mirage had enough experience to roll to the side once the afterglow reduced him to a purring kitten of a bot, his lips curled into a very pleased smile as he settled down beside you and vented the heat from his exercise. The mess wouldn't have occurred to you even if you'd been able to feel your legs.

"Wooo boy..." the mech sighed after what couldn't have been more than a minute or two. You opened your eyes just as he pulled you up the berth to face him, sliding over the bundle of bedding until your gaze met your lover's and found him looking very pleased with himself. Chuckling at the boundless ego, you scootched closer to snuggle him and fully enjoy yourself, more than a little smug at how easily this had all gone to plan. It was almost unfair how little you had to try to make him pound your brain out.

"Better?" you cooed, cupping his chin the way he liked. Mirage leaned into the touch and laid so you faced one another, far more relaxed now that his charge had been burned off. 

"Ain't nothing better than you, gorgeous." he confirmed, letting you nuzzle into his neck as he held you close and playfully stroked your hair. The softness mixed with his sass compelled you to relax as well, your naked body pressing into his to savor the touch of his warm mesh in the bliss of the afterglow. Dating a mech like Mirage was never easy, but it was certainly always worth it.

#valveplug #transformers #lemon #maccadam #robot x human relations #tf #self insert #human reader #mirage #mirage x reader #nsfw//// #rotb mirage #transformers rotb #rise of the beasts #tf rotb #transformers x reader #x reader #swearing #robosmut

[thirdsaltyhunter]

4th of July

Dean x reader

Warning: drinking, implied smut

Summary: 4th of july campfire gets a get a little steamy after everyone goes to bed

A/N: This is the first drabble I've written and posted, so I'm sorry for the writing and Dean's terrible joke. Not proofread.

_____________

You had proposed the idea earlier of having a campfire this 4th of July, just be able to sit back and relax in the brief time between hunts. The boys immediately went along with your idea, Sam going to build a fire near the door to the bunker while Dean cooked up his famously delicious burgers.

Sam had invited Eileen and Cas had even popped in for a bit. It turned out to be a great night of drinking, talking, good food, and setting off sparklers that you had found in a drawer.

After a few hours (and a few drinks) Sam and Eileen decided to call it a night and said their 'goodnights' to you and Dean before going into the bunker.

"Last ones standing", Dean said, tipping his beer bottle towards you. "Barely standing" you giggled, clinking your bottle against his.

Ever since you and Dean started dating you usually ended up being the last ones awake. You were more late night kind of people than Sam, it was one of the things that brought you and Dean closer.

Sometimes those late nights turned into talking and drinking, and sometimes talking and drinking turned into more X-rated fun. Judging by how tipsy you were and how good he looked in the fire light sipping his beer, you knew that was probably how tonight was going to end up.

After talking a while you got up to tend to the now dying fire and throw some more logs on it. When you bent over to stoke the fire, Dean smacked your ass, igniting the fire inside you. You weren't trying to tease him. You chuckled and looked over your shoulder, he had a very relaxed smirk on his face. "Enjoying the show?", you asked bending over further and pressing closer to him. Now you were trying to tease him. He nodded, biting his lip in appreciation.

He never failed to make you feel sexy and loved, you had more confidence with him than you had ever had in you life. And right now that confidence, the alcohol, and his gaze on your tank top and short-shorts clad body, was making you want to do sinful things.

You dropped the stick you were using to poke the fire and reached over to grap you phone to turn up the music that had been playing in the background. You set down your phone and started swaying your hips to the beat of the music. You're going to put on a show for him alright.

Your back was still turned to him, but you could hear the slight moan that reverberated in his chest at your actions. He gently ran his palms up the back of your thighs, not being able to resist touching you. At this point you were almost grinding down onto his lap, pulling out every trick you knew in the 'lap-dance handbook'.

After you felt you had teased him, and yourself, enough you turned around and moved to straddle his lap. You could see, even in the dim light from the fire, that his pupils were clouded with lust. His hands moved to your hips, holding your slightly intoxicated body steady on his lap. You smiled, leaning down to kiss him. He hummed into your mouth and kissed you back with the same passion and desire you felt within you.

His hands smoothed up and down your arms, palms warm against your skin that had cooled in the night air. "You're so gorgeous", he said, fingers moving from your arms to tangle in your hair and gently pull your head back, trailing kisses down your neck.

"And you're frustratingly handsome" you said, lost in the feel of his lips. You felt him release a breathy chuckle against your neck. When you ground your hips onto his crotch, you had to bury your face in his neck to conceal your moans. Not that anyone could hear you, the bunker was miles from any people.

He turned his head to whisper in your ear. "How 'bout I take you inside and see how long before I can get you seeing fireworks".

#dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #spn fic #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester smut

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

Peter Parker x widow!reader

I'm just imaging Natasha little sister coming to live at Stark tower and Peter falling head over heels

He just strikes me as the type to have a badass girlfriend while he's a softie

a/n: feels an appropriate for this to do a classic flirty sparring fic, don't you think? ♡

word count: 618

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist 

“You’re strong, right?” you nonchalantly asked as you passed Peter in the hallway, not stopping in your stride to wait for his answer. 

Doing a double take, he sputtered, “w-what?”

“Come with me,” you kept your eyes fixed forward as you called back to him, “I need someone to train with.”

“Uh, okay,” you heard his footsteps catch up to yours. 

Readjusting the protective wraps your fists were already enveloped in, you soon rounded the corner into the gym, briefly giving each of your arms a good stretch to each side on your determined stride towards the wide mat in the centre of the room. 

“Alright,” you spun around, gesturing for him to step closer, joining you on the square pad, “no webs or anything,” you rolled your neck, a quiet crack resounding at the stretch, “just some good old fashion one on one, yeah?”

“I really don’t wanna hurt you,” he exhaled lowly as you raised your clenched fists.

“Well, that makes one of us,” you chuckled, not needing any longer before pouncing, landing a swift blow to the side of his jaw, “come on, hit me!”

A grimace briefly blooming from where you struck him, he groaned, “I can’t, I’m sorry, it just feels wrong to hit a girl.”

“Parker,” you rolled your eyes and vocalised the reason for your choice of sparring partner, “I wanted a challenge, so give me a fucking challenge.”

Your leg arced all the way up to his shoulder, though your foot barely even managed a tap him before he had somehow twisted you down onto the floor, overpowering you with his staggering strength. Thinking that was enough, a soft smile curled up on Peter’s lips as he hovered above you, waiting for you to tap out. 

Though when your palm reluctantly came down upon the mat and you both got back up, you quickly hissed, “again!” 

“You sure you don’t wanna just-,” his sentence crumbled as you cut him off with yet another punch.

“I said again!” you tightened your core and spun up onto his shoulders in an attempt to take him down. Smirking as you felt him begin to tumble, the celebration sadly didn’t last very long as you didn’t land on your feet as you usually did, his instincts haven kicked in and sent you rolling across the floor.

All the air in your lungs got knocked out as your body collided with one of the sporadic pillars in the room, an excruciating pain flaring up in your right shoulder at the impact. 

“Oh my god,” Peter rushed to your side as you slowly sat up, “I am so so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Peter,” you groaned to shut him up, peeking down at your dislocated joint, “I’m fine,” your laboured breaths filled the air, “just pop it back into place.”

“What?”

Squinting up at his horrified features, you carefully got back up on your feet and murmured, “fine, I’ll just do it myself then,” before turning to face the column and pressing your injured shoulder against it. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Peter winched, “you could make it worse like that if you-” the loud snap as you rammed against the post, popping it back into place, effectively shut him up completely. 

“Sure, if you’re an idiot and don’t know how to do it,” you exhaled as the sharp stinging melted into a more bearable ache, “you have no idea how many times I've had it happen. Still remember the first time I had to figure out how to do it on my own. I was on an assignment in Düsseldorf, hiding in this closet and I couldn’t make a sound…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker request #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #black widow!reader #peter parker x black widow!reader #peter parker x widow!reader

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 3: Lore Dump

Previous Chapter: Out of Character

Summary: After your bombshell revelation, Eddie finds it difficult to wrap his head around what is now his reality to empathize with your shared predicament.

Word Count: 8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lore Dump (literally), Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Criticism of Fanfiction, Meta Fiction

Note: Ok besties here we are and the chapter, or at least one part of it, is very much as the title says. It's a Lore Dump as we figure out how Reader and Eddie have found themselves in this predicament. Warning everyone that it might be a little mind-fucky but a lot more will be explained in detail in future chapters. We've only just scratched the surface here.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You'd never run so much in your entire life.

Alright, that might have been a little dramatic.

But that didn't mean it wasn't true.

"Is it always like this?" you panted as you chased after the flopping brown coat of the man a few steps ahead of you. "With the running?"

"Oh yes!" he called out. He looked back at you with a charming, crooked grin and pointed ahead. "You'll get used to it. Allons-y!"

This whole nightmare started when you crashed your car into, what you thought was, an unassuming blue "police box."

And now, several days later, you were running, ducking, diving...surviving all manner of monsters that seemingly popped up out of nowhere in the middle of Texas. With a goofy man with unbrushed hair and a buzzing screwdriver called The Doctor, and his companion--whatever that meant; it sounded suspicious to you--Martha, who kept staring at you like you'd grown another head.

You supposed adventure was the idea when you left the borders of Port Geneva proper, but this kind of adventure wasn't exactly what you had in mind. Static monsters who could literally take the words out of your mouth and a hive-mind controlling overlord whose goal it was to steal knowledge.

You might have been a lover of fantastical stories, but this was something beyond your wildest fantasies, and apparently something Martha and the Doctor encountered regularly, if their cool reaction to some of the atrocities you'd seen was indicator enough.

They both seemed to have it in mind that you were joining them for this type of ordeal from now on, though.

Especially the Doctor, if that "you'll get used to it" was something to go by.

"Come on, faster, faster," Martha called out to you from the threshold of a solid metal door just up ahead. "They can't get in through the iron."

You pumped your legs faster and ignored the burn in your lungs as you passed the Doctor and joined Martha in the safety of the bunker, with the man of the hour himself following shortly after. Martha slammed the door shut and then used the sonic to ensure the lock would hold.

They let you have a moment to catch your breath as they strategized plans for the next steps, which seemed impossible now that you were stuck in a bunker filled with junk and no exit.

"Nothing's impossible," the Doctor exclaimed as though he could read your mind. Maybe he could; you wouldn't put it past him. "And we're not stuck."

He removed the brown trench coat and got to work sorting through the junk in the bunker, while Martha took a seat beside you and patted your knee.

"You should be proud of yourself," she said gently. "It's really hard, dealing with all of this. And I've been with him for almost a year now. All the running, the monsters, all of the...impossible--

"Nothing's impossible Martha," the Doctor interjected.

"--improbable things," she amended. "It doesn't get easier, but you will get used to it. Besides, you'd think you were on the track team like Sam with how fast you've been running. Maybe you should have been the star relay runner instead of her."

Martha might have laughed.

But you didn't.

You felt a cold sense of dread overtake you. You'd told them about your friends back home earlier in the day, when you'd panicked over your impending doom. You cried and told them you wished you were still back there, safe and sound; in hindsight, it was a pathetic moment.

It wasn't what you'd said that gave you pause now, though; it's what you hadn't.

"Martha," you muttered nervously. "How did you know that Sam did relay?"

Martha's eyes went wide and she looked to the doctor in a sudden panic.

"I...I never told you she was on the track team."

It was a standoff.

A staring contest.

You and Eddie watched each other, unblinking, as if to see who would break first.

Eddie knew it would probably be him because his mind was racing, but he would give you the chance to repeat yourself, or elaborate, or maybe yell "surprise" first.

None of those things happened of course, so he was left in stunned silence trying to formulate the words to respond to your groundbreaking revelation.

We are in a fanfiction.

Fanfiction.

He had heard about fanfiction before. Drove the guys out to some comic book shop in Fort Wayne to celebrate Jeff's birthday and the nerds behind the counter were talking about a Star Trek fanfiction they read in some celebratory fan magazine.

He'd honestly never thought about Kirk and Spock like that and he really didn't want to again.

Even though it kind of made sense.

He just wasn’t that big of a Trek guy either.

But damn, even though he and the guys might not have been the popular kids, they were definitely not dorky like that, were they?

Except that they were. He was.

He wrote his favorite characters into his DnD campaigns as NPCs and he fantasized about what it would be like if he was Han Solo instead of Han himself, and tucked away in a drawer at home, there was definitely that story about you...

"Shit," he finally breathed out, blinking and breaking eye contact with you. "Shit, I did this. I mean, I know I did this, but did...did I do this?"

"What?" You frowned at him. "What do you mean, did you do this? Eddie, did you hear what I said?"

"No, yeah, of course I did," he began rambling. "I just...before you showed up in Hawkins, I...I wrote about you. I wrote about you leaving Port Geneva and coming to Hawkins and meeting me and...fuck...that means you know."

You stared at him blankly.

"You know that Port Geneva is a TV show," he clarified and then ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ, how did I...how could I have done this? Shit. Shit."

You crossed the short distance and took a seat on the couch beside him, comforting hand finding his knee instantly.

"Eddie--"

"I'm sorry I did this. I'm sorry I just...you're my...my favorite character and I..."

"--you didn't do this. Someone else did."

He took a few breaths, heart pounding in his chest, and then swallowed hard.

"Who?"

"That's...a little harder to answer. But I think the thing you need to focus on right now--the thing you're missing--is that we are in a fanfiction. You and me. Together. Because I'm not the only one from a TV show. You are too."

Eddie was dumbstruck for a second.

Well, he was pretty dumbstruck about this whole thing. But he only had a second to really process it, because the next thing he knew, you were in his lap, lips pressed to his, hands fisting his jacket, and the door to the greenroom burst open as his friends walked in.

You pulled away from him as the catcalls and whistles and jokes began and glanced over your shoulder at the guys to bite your lip bashfully.

"Ah, looks like the original song worked after all," Jeff teased.

"Good, cuz then we don't have to play it anymore, bleh," Gareth stuck his tongue out. "You know, for everything you preach about metal and only metal Eddie, you sure wrote some sappy Greg Brady shit."

Eddie's ears rang as he answered. Well, as his mouth moved and voice spoke, saying something that got everyone laughing. Something that he had no control over once again. You turned back to him and he widened his eyes in some silent plea but you simply shook your head at him.

Instead you leaned forward and kissed him again, softer this time. Gentler. Different from the unexpected kiss just moments before, this was one of understanding and comfort.

He relaxed under your touch.

"Alright guys," you announced as you pulled away, words and tone of your voice not quite matching the softness of your gaze as you continued to watch him. "Your set's over. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here. Bev wants you out."

"What was all of that?" he demanded as you stepped out of your car.

After driving the guys home, he sat on your porch and waited. Chain smoking and lost in his thoughts until you got back to Forest Hills after your shift.

"Can I at least get inside first?" you asked with a nervous laugh. "Do you want to wake Granny up? Jesus."

He was on your heels as you unlocked your door and stepped inside, almost followed you to your bedroom when you said you'd wanted to change into PJs, and even declined a soda when you got settled back in the living room.

And once you couldn't stall for any more time, sitting next to each other on your couch, he stared at you and begged, "please, I need to know I'm not in a nightmare here. Or dead."

You let out a honk of laughter and then reached over to take his hand in yours, and he felt the slight edge of abject terror start to lessen.

"You're not in a nightmare," you reassured him. "Or dead."

"Then...then what is this?" he whispered desperately. "Is this a trick? A joke? Start from the beginning. Please."

You took a breath and began.

"It's fanfiction." You hummed contemplatively for a moment. "This is...I don't know when it started, actually. For me, that is. For you...well, there's no way we could say for sure; I can only talk about my own experience."

You paused and then said your name, the same way that you had introduced yourself originally. And then Eddie realized that you were introducing yourself again as you squeezed his hand in yours.

"I was born and raised in Port Geneva, and then in 1985 after graduation, I left to start my adventure. And from that moment on--for years--I got to have it. I got to have...a hundred adventures. A thousand. A million maybe? As many adventures as there have been people to imagine them. As many adventures as there have been fans to write them.

"Fans like you, Eddie," you smiled at him. "You said you wrote a story where I came to see you."

"Yeah," he nodded, cheeks hot under your gaze. "I did."

"And I'm your favorite character?"

He thought about you, thought about himself and the countless nights that he watched you on the screen.

"How could you not be my favorite?" he asked gently in return.

Your gaze turned soft and you looked down at his hand, clasped tightly within yours, and then you continued with your story.

"I got to see the world, got to meet so many people, I got to fall in love...except I never realized it. Until...until I met him."

"Him?" Eddie asked sharply, thoughts immediately spiraling.

Love.

You said love.

Who was this Him that you were in love with? Even through Eddie's confusion and panic about the predicament he was currently in, he could still feel a bitter jealousy roiling deep inside his gut.

"The Doctor," you whispered.

"Doctor Who?"

You snorted. "Exactly."

"I don't get it," he shook his head.

"Doctor Who...that's...it's the name of a television show. Been around for a long time, but I'm not sure how popular it is here. If it even exists. You have a lot of media that we didn't have in Port Geneva but there's a few things that...I dunno...that your writers haven't mentioned. Or The Writer hasn't included yet."

You explained it to him, or the gist of it at least.

An immortal time-traveling alien and his usually human companion, all of the adventures and misadventures and danger. Being able to go to different times and timelines and universes.

In any other scenario, it would have sounded cool. Maybe a little scary. But now, all Eddie could think about was this mess you were in.

"And...this Doctor...he's what brought you to Hawkins?" he questioned hesitantly, figuring that it made the most sense. "He thought he was bringing you back to Port Geneva's universe and brought you here instead?"

"Uh, no," you frowned. "That was The Writer. The Author. Whatever you want to call them."

"Because this is a fanfiction."

"Yeah. That was. And this is. I just...didn't know it yet. I didn't realize it was fanfiction until later. But, uh, whoever wrote that crossover story just brought me from my world into Doctor Who, and that was when I realized I was a fictional character from a TV Show. Because they wrote me as a character who jumped from a television show into the 'real world' of the Doctor and his friends."

Just like you were now: a fictional character in his world.

"It's hard to explain, but the Doctor made me aware of it. Made it make sense." You faltered. "Well...not really, but that's when it started. He told me that I wasn't real--"

"Wait,” he interrupted you. “But you said I was from a tv show back at the hideout. So you're telling me I'm not real?"

"Ed--"

"Because you’re from a tv show and so am I and this Doctor is too.”

“I wouldn’t try to think about it so hard.”

“Is that...the Doctor told you that you were a character in a TV show and you weren't real? And that's what you're telling me right now too?"

"It's hard to explain--"

"Because I don't know sweetheart," Eddie chuckled sardonically and shook his hands out of yours so he could run them over his face, through his hair. "I...I feel plenty real. And if there's anyone who isn't real here...well, I have a stack of video tapes back home that can provide enough evidence."

He’d thought about the barebones of it when he’d been outside waiting for you to get home, but faced with the truth of it now, the dominoes were starting to fall.

He was real, he had to be. His whole life, all of his memories, all of his friends, what about th—

"Can you let me fucking finish?" you snapped at him with a sharp clap.

His shoulders heaved and he stared at you with wild eyes.

"You're real," you explained calmly. "I'm real. We're both real. Real people. Real lives. Real memories. For the most part."

Eddie didn't like the sound of that.

"But this world...is your world and I don't belong here. Just like I didn't belong in the Doctor's world either. He explained it to me in some way I didn't quite understand; I'm just a girl from the midwest. I barely graduated high school and suddenly he was telling me there was some cosmic anomaly that pulled me out of my world, my tv show world, and that I was transported into his world. It was wild.

“The important thing though was that he didn't know how to get me home. So, until he could figure it out, I was stuck. And I traveled with him for a while. With him and his friend Martha…and then with another friend Donna. Until somewhere at the end of it all...I died."

Eddie's heart stopped in his chest; you...died?

The question was stuck on his lips, the demand to know more, but he felt himself choke up when he thought about it. Even more when he watched the tears well in your eyes as you remembered your own death.

"I died alone, bleeding out in the middle of an alien planet..." you recalled, wrenching your eyes shut. There was a beat of silence and he let you have a moment to recover. He watched your eyes dart around beneath your eyelids as you gathered your thoughts, as you recalled whatever horror you went through. When you were through, you blinked and looked up at him with the weight of a thousand truths in your gaze. "And then I wasn't dead anymore."

"What?!"

"Well obviously I'm alive,” you motioned down to yourself. “Maybe I’m a little worse for wear inside but I’m fine. Back then though...I was dead. One second I was in oblivion. And then next, I woke up in the driver's seat of my car, outside of a hotel in Odessa, Texas. With a man from the future named Hiro Nakamura, who told me I had to save the cheerleader if I wanted to save the world.

"And it all just started over again," you sighed.

You recounted this next place to him. Places, actually; plural. Names that meant nothing to him but seemed to mean something to you--Hiro, Claire, Peter, Sylar--and it all sounded fantastic. Another unbelievable adventure, but there was still something off.

"I...I tried to ask questions. About where I was, about where the Doctor was. It was always ignored. I tried to control things but it seemed like I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. Tried to do things that I instinctively knew I wanted to do, but I just couldn't. It seemed like there was something controlling me instead. Like I was a puppet on a string. And everything that happened around me...never seemed to make any sense, no matter how hard I tried to wrap my head around it.

"Sound familiar?" you asked.

Eddie scoffed, thinking about the traumatic, out of control moments he had had the past few days. That hopeless, helpless, sinking feeling he'd had.

"It fucking sucks, sweetheart. You feel like that...all the time?"

"You get used to it." You shook your head. "Get used to playing along. I learned that really quickly; I resigned myself to this life where I was just a passenger in my own body. Until I realized if I just played the part that whatever forces-that-be wanted me to play, I could have a little more control."

There was a tense pause as you let Eddie absorb the information. And absorb it he did. He didn't like it, the idea that he had to play a part; it was something he'd been fighting all his life. But maybe if you said it was something that would make him feel more in control, he could try.

He turned to the next thought ever-present in his mind.

"So," he cleared his throat to start again. "How do you know this is a fanfiction? When did you figure that out? Because...when you showed up, I thought about all the possibilities--a dream, a nightmare, hell, heaven, a portal, a wormhole like in a comic book--and that was never one of them."

"Because of the interviews."

"Interviews..."

"They're fun and silly, I guess," you shrugged apathetically. "You'll be in the middle of your life, middle of your day, middle of a fight...and then the world goes dark and you'll find yourself sitting in a room alongside the people you know...and The Writer. An Interview with the Characters.

"I was already familiar with the fact that I was from a television show and in a world I didn't belong in. But I was the only person aware of that fact; to the Doctor, I was a fictional character, but here Port Geneva the television show...didn't exist. I was just another citizen of planet earth, and my home was a real place on the map, as real as Odessa or New York.

"But suddenly my friends and I were in that room sitting in front of someone. A writer. The Writer--SylaireIsMyOTP117--and they were all aware that they were characters in a television show called Heroes, that I was a character from Port Geneva, and that we were all in some kind of...story in another universe, written by this SylaireismyOTP117. Something they never seemed aware of before.

"And SylaireismyOTP117...she acted like she was our friend too, like she had our best interest in mind and valued our opinions. Everyone laughed along with all of her jokes. Answered all of her questions. Except me, because then it all came into perspective. She was the one playing with our lives--playing with my life--and putting us in danger. She made us travel through time to dangerous places, she created more dangers, she even killed Peter's older brother--something that apparently hadn't happened in the show. Well...not yet anyway."

Your hands clenched and unclenched.

"I thought I figured it out," you said through gritted teeth. "Found the person responsible for this predicament I was in. Because she was so...sure of herself. She even had the audacity to apologize for pulling me out of my world and into Heroes. I asked her why she made me die with the Doctor just so I could be a part of this world instead... but she didn't know what I was talking about.

"Suddenly she had this pink magazine in her hand. Pulled it out of her back pocket and waved it around, saying she found it in her mom's childhood bedroom. Said I must have been thinking about one of the stories from it. The Port Geneva Teen Fanzine. SylaireismyOTP117 told me she was sad that people had written me the way they did. Out of Character. That she wanted to give me something better than than had. A better adventure. Then the interview was over. And that was the end of that. Or just the beginning actually.

"Mystery solved." You held your hands out in front of you like you were presenting the secrets of the universe. Eddie could even imagine a glowing sphere floating there if he tried hard enough.

You started naming names then, of movies and books and television shows. Heroes and Lost and Vampire Diaries and The Dark Knight.

And. And. And.

The list just kept going and going.

It made Eddie's head spin to hear all of the places you had been, all of the lives you had lived, the things that all of these Writers had put you through.

To hear how sometimes you'd wake up in a new world, sometimes you'd seemingly get your happily ever after, sometimes none of the above. Sometimes you were even back home in Port Geneva--relieved--only to get ripped away all over again.

It never seemed to end the same way, but it always started with you in the driver's seat of your car. Chugging along to the next destination. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.

"And that's how you ended up here in Hawkins?" Eddie asked, then paused. "Do you know...what my show is called?"

"Uh," you winced and folded your hands together in your lap. "Yes. I do. And I know it seems like I know all of these things. I don’t. Rarely, actually. But sometimes the Writers think they're funny and they work the title into the story; that’s how I find out. Because it's out of place.

"But, uh, it’s not the first time I've been here in Hawkins, actually."

It was a record scratch moment for Eddie.

"You...you have?" He smiled and suddenly felt a sense of hope; alright, so his love for you was so undeniable that this wasn't the first time someone had brought you to him. To give him something good in his miserable shit life. "Well so, what happened last time? Why can't I remember? Is that just...well, I guess, what makes this time different? Why am I aware of it all this time?

"Wait! Wait! What's my show about? Is it...is it like...the Misadventures of a Wannabe Rockstar or something? You said that when we had breakfast at Benny's. Is that the title? It has to be."

He rambled for a second, excitedly trying to predict his future, a future where you got to see the ups and downs of his life as he and Corroded Coffin navigated their way to fame.

You let him ramble, let him live in hope for those few moments. Until he realized you weren't chattering excitedly with him.

Until he saw the pain in your eyes.

He deflated, mind suddenly turning to the worst scenarios. At least in his mind.

"We don't make it, do we?" Was the conclusion he could come to. "But it's Wannabe Rockstar, right?. Not Future Rockstar. I'm gonna end up working at Thatcher Tires instead or something. Dead end job, stuck in this town..."

"It isn't your show," you whispered. "Just like Port Geneva...wasn't really mine."

Eddie swallowed hard.

"It's called Stranger Things," you explained. "And it's...I dunno...there are monsters. The first time I was here, I wasn't transported in as someone's favorite TV character. It was 1983, Port Geneva was a real place, and I was a transfer student at Hawkins High. And awful things happened. But there was no Eddie Munson. They must've written you in later in the show."

You continued your own rambling then, as you tried to make him feel better about it all. How he must've been a beloved character for someone to write a story about him. How whatever story they were writing was a good story too, because there didn't seem to be any monsters in Hawkins, not like there were the first time you'd been there.

"And...and The Writer of this story must love you a lot," you concluded. "To bring your favorite tv character in to be your girlfriend. For us to...like each other, love each other--and I do like you Eddie, I want to make that very clear. You make me feel like I'm close to home for the first time in a long time--but it seems like they want to give you a happy ending too. One you deserve."

But your words didn't help. The sinking feeling was back, but this time The Writer didn't have anything to do with it.

It was him, all him. All this misery and he wasn't even the main character of his own show. He should've seen that coming. And yeah he could live with being someone's favorite, enough for them to write a happy ending or something but...

"'s that mean I have a sad ending in the show?" he wondered. "If there are usually monsters here but there aren't, and I get something...something good, does that mean I die or something?"

"Eddie, it's..." you trailed off, but the rest of the sentence was hanging in the air, clear to both of you.

It's better not to think about it that way.

He nodded slowly and pulled his hand away from you to run it over his face.

It was confusing, it was upsetting.

All of it.

The cherry on top of the shit sundae that was his week. His life.

Fuck, but none of it was real, right? Contrary to everything you said. So could he really be upset? Should he? At least he knew he had something good to look forward to. A happy ending.

But how could he look forward to it when he knew that...well, when he knew that he didn't deserve it in the first place. That wasn't what fate had in store for him.

Or the writers of this Stranger Things show.

His happiness was at the whim of The Writer. At the whim of some...loser nerd writing about him in another universe.

A nerd just like him.

Fuck, it was giving him a headache.

"I uh...have a lot to think about," he whispered. You nodded as he stood and crossed towards the door of your trailer so he could leave. He paused at the door, instinctively remembering that he had to kiss you goodbye. Until everything hit him all over again and he decided it was better not to. "I'll, uh, I'll call you. Ok?"

"Yeah," you nodded eagerly. "Call me whenever. Please. It's...it is a lot. And honestly, we only scratched the surface. But we can figure the rest out together. I can help you through it. I promise. I'll be here."

He left without another word.

Denial was the easiest way for Eddie to go about this whole ordeal, or so he thought. How the fuck else was someone supposed to come to terms with the fact that...

Nope he wasn't gonna go there. Not yet.

He knew that he would need to deal with it eventually--need to think it through and talk to you--but until then, he was just going to live his life like he normally would.

So he avoided those feelings, and avoided you.

And it seemed to work.

School, home, trip to Rick's to re-up his inventory on Wednesday, grocery run for Wayne on Thursday, Hellfire on Friday, no date on Saturday.

Dealing at a few parties, band practice where the music was all normal, and then finally back at the Hideout for their gig on Tuesday.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It was a normal week and aside from the still-obvious markers of this new life he was living, like the mess in the trailer and the fancy renovations at the Hideout, Eddie felt relieved and a little less like he was about to lose his mind.

It was both a blessing and a curse though, because at the end of every day he realized just how much missed you.

You'd rooted yourself solidly in his life--both on tv and now in the flesh--for years. Even when he didn't have new episodes to watch and stories to enjoy, he had his reruns. His tapes. Then you were suddenly there in person and on the phone.

So the you-shaped hole that he punched in his life, when he decided to ignore his predicament, was gaping and obvious.

Yeah, he could tell Wayne about the great battle he'd come up with for Hellfire, or complain to the guys about the bogus chemistry homework. But it wasn't the same. Not anymore.

So he resolved to talk to you on Tuesday after the set, only you weren't there.

"Shouldn't you know Junior? That's your girl," Bev dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She must have taken pity on him at the sight of his sad eyes, and she just sighed and continued. "She called in sick. Took the night off. She seemed fine yesterday; better not be cuz of you, kid."

He feared you might have left town, maybe to spare him or something--how that would work with the fanfiction Gods? Weren't you supposed to stay in Hawkins? He wasn't sure--but your car was in front of your trailer by the time he got home.

Everything was quiet, and all the lights were off, even the porch light which you usually kept on. He debated knocking on your door, waking you up, but decided against it.

If you really were trying to give him space, or simply avoid him like he had avoided you, it was best not to wake you up and piss you off.

"Tomorrow," he told himself. "I'll talk to her after school tomorrow."

Of course, that was the plan and fanfiction or not, sometimes even the best laid plans went awry.

He was still Eddie Munson, after all.

Things never went his way.

Once again, he had Chrissy Cunningham to thank for his plight.

It was on this, the day of his reconciliation with you, that she decided her hunt or conquest or humiliation of him would take place.

Maybe all of the above.

It was raining, he was running late.

He would have cut classes--should have just cut--but despite all odds being against him now more than ever, he promised himself that he was going to try when it came to school.

He had just opened the door to his locker when she appeared, the tips of her pristine white sneakers kissing the sides of his muddied converse.

"Hey Eddie!" Chrissy greeted with a too-big smile and sparkling eyes.

Eddie jumped and looked around the hallway, conveniently lacking its usual amount of students who loitered around before class. Thankfully, no other cheerleaders or jocks in sight either, though; it was either a blessing or a curse, he couldn't tell for sure.

"Hey, uh," he coughed and glanced at Chrissy for a second, before distracting himself with the contents of his locker. Fuck, it was pretty messy in there too; now was as good a time as any to clean it. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you," she beamed.

He felt a bubbling of annoyance build within him, somewhat out of his control.

"You can't want to talk to me and also not want anything Chrissy," he scoffed pretty harshly as he grabbed a handful of papers to sort through. "So do you want to buy weed for a slumber party or something? Or have you suddenly decided to throw your Homecoming crown in the trash so you could join Hellfire ?"

She shuffled her feet and clutched her books to her chest and then took a deep breath.

"I wanted to know if you'd like to hang out some time," she announced loudly, bravely. Eddie froze in shock and then turned to her; her cheeks were red but there was a resolve in her eyes that he'd never seen in her before. "There's a new movie playing at the Hawk. Clue. I don't know if you've heard of it, it looks a little spooky..."

She rambled on and Eddie was left to stare at her, dumbfounded.

Chrissy Cunningham? Asking him out? Ok so Gareth was right?

But was Gareth right? Was she really hot for him or was she just using him for her own amusement? Or was this another little...storytelling mishap that the Writer was putting him through?

Shit, how could he tell?

This kind of shit sort of always, sort of never happened to him before.

Plenty of popular girls thought it was fun to go out with The Freak just to get off or to have a laugh, sure. But everything else in his life was turning upside down thanks to the Writer. So was this just another layer to that absolute shit show?

Gah, what the fuck could it be?

The anger bubbled inside of him again, and he had the vaguest realization that the anger didn't really belong to him. It felt too intense, almost manufactured. He was hit with the sense of deja vu that he'd felt this way before--in the cafeteria before the almost-food-fight and then at Family Video--and he decided to put a stop to it immediately.

"Listen Chrissy," he interrupted her with a cool, indifferent tone. "The movie sounds cool, but I'm really not interested in going out with you." He turned back to shut his locker and get to class when she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"If this is because of Jason," she began softly. "I'm...you don't have to worry. I'd break up with him if we went out."

"It's not about Jason," he snapped, out of control once again. Well and truly out of control. He felt himself shrug her hand away. "I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who is actually cool and nice and interesting. Who likes the things that I like and doesn't like silly things like magazines and cheer and scrunchies." He watched in horror as he lifted his hand and flicked at her ponytail, and then felt angry at himself, at this situation, at The Writer when Chrissy flinched and dropped her books on the floor.

"It's almost funny that you'd think I'd be interested in someone like you," he spat at her venomously.

He felt the sudden urge to slam the locker, felt the urge to walk away, felt the urge to laugh in Chrissy's face.

But he resisted all of those urges with every fiber of his being.

He just stood there until the puppet strings were cut once again and he felt the rage and anger dissipate.

All the while, Chrissy went from a fearful, trembling mess in front of him, eyes welling with tears, to...nothing.

She just stood there too.

She looked down at her feet, shuffled back and forth for a moment, and then she scuffed her shoes against the floor, nudging the fallen textbooks.

She suddenly didn't look like Queen of Hawkins High Chrissy Cunningham, or someone that was afraid of the Wrath of the Freak, or some lash-batting temptress like she had been just moments ago.

She just looked like the girl who was hiding in the Auditorium at the Hawkins Middle School talent show all those years ago.

A person. Just like him.

Eddie cleared his throat and knelt down to help Chrissy pick up her books.

"Sorry," he muttered when she knelt beside him. "Sorry I--"

"No, it's ok. I guess...I don't know. I guess I just felt a little lost for a while," she explained softly. "And the only thing that seemed like it could fix it was you."

Interesting.

"But not anymore?" he wondered.

"Uh, no," she shook her head. "I don't even know...why I asked you out Eddie. No offense...but you're not really my type."

The two of them laughed for a second as they stood back up.

"You know," Eddie turned Chrissy's books over in his hand, "if you wanna break up with Carver, you can just do that. You don't need to use me as an excuse."

She froze in front of him, cheeks red again, as she hummed nervously.

"Thanks Eddie," she whispered. They both smiled softly, a silent understanding shared between them, and then Chrissy held out her books so he could stack the ones in his hand atop them.

And that's when he saw the book--magazine--at the top of her stack.

A pink-covered, handmade looking thing with a familiar name printed at the top of it.

Port Geneva Teen Fanzine.

His heart stopped.

That was the thing you said your Writer had shown you once upon a time, in your Interview.

For a second he wondered how Chrissy had it, but then he tried to figure out the logic that you were from a TV show and transported here. If he was a fan, there must be other people watching the show and fans of it too. Maybe the magazine transcended universes. Just like the show did.

It honestly made his head hurt trying to think about it.

"You...you like Port Geneva?" he asked, trying to remain as casual as possible.

"Hmm, yeah," Chrissy smiled down at the 'zine. "It's one of my favorite shows. My mom and I used to watch it together. Sam is my favorite character."

Somehow, that didn't surprise him one bit.

"Do you watch?" she questioned, brow quirked curiously. "It doesn't seem like your kind of show."

"I mean, I'm full of surprises," he teased, trying to keep his tone as lighthearted as possible. "But, uh...yeah. I used to."

"It's a bummer that it's over right?"

"Yeah...hey Chrissy, I know you don't owe me any favors or anything but, uh, can I borrow that?"

"Seriously?" she snorted. "It's just got like personality quizzes and little stories and stuff in it. Nothing special."

Little stories? Bingo.

"Yeah, just curious."

"Sure." They traded her textbooks for the magazine, and then with a shrill ring of the bell overhead, they went off to class.

He sat in his room after school, holding the Port Geneva Teen Fanzine like it was some sacred document not meant for the eyes of a mere mortal peasant like him.

The Dead Sea Scrolls or the Magna Carta or The Declaration of Independence.

It had burned a hole in his backpack the whole day, anticipation getting the better of him, but he knew that he didn't want to read the 'zine in front of his friends.

"So stupid," he scoffed at his own antics. "What was gonna happen? Davey wouldn't want to take the 'which character would make the best chemistry lab partner' quiz."

Maybe just in case there was something just inside the pink paper cover that would change his life forever.

"Like what? It's not like your yearbook picture's gonna be on the first page, idiot," he sighed and tightened his grip on the magazine. "Just gotta rip off that bandaid."

He closed his eyes tightly, took a breath, and flipped open the cover.

When he cracked one eye open to take a peek, he sighed in relief.

His face wasn't staring back up at him. No faces, actually. Just a table of contents that looked a little grainy, like it was copied on a Xerox machine and haphazardly thrown together.

There were different headlines just like there would be in a regular magazine--interviews, behind the scenes, quizzes--and then some unique ones--fan art, fan submissions, show theories. At the bottom of the Table of Contents, there was a little slip that could be cut out, filled, and mailed along with a few dollars to some address in California to get the next copy of the 'zine.

Eddie flipped through the pages curiously, and he truly enjoyed some of the pictures of fans visiting the set and getting pictures with a few cast members. Then an interview with the actress who played Sam's mom, who said what a joy it was to see her young co-stars grow up and come into their own, just like their characters.

Then about half-way through, he reached the Fan Submissions.

A section filled with fanfiction stories.

A section where your name was plastered practically everywhere.

Stories of you getting to go to big cities, ones where you finally returned home. A heartbreaking one where you returned in time for Sam and Pat's wedding and you cried because...

Because...you'd actually been in love with Patrick the whole time?

Eddie made a noise of shock as he read the detailed description of your heartbreak and the way that you recalled how sad you had been the day Pat had come to ask for your help with the proposal.

"Were we even watching the same show?" Eddie scoffed.

There were a few fanfiction submissions that characterized you that way, having this unrequited love for him.

But you never really showed any interest in him, other than friendship. Aside from Mark, you never had any romantic feelings in the show.

How had these so-called fans misread your relationship with Pat so terribly?

Or had Eddie's obsession with you clouded his ability to perceive the signs? Maybe he had been watching a different show than everyone else.

He wallowed in that feeling as he waded through the fan stories slowly--although one story about Bonnie and Bill seemed a little interesting: a Bakery/Flower Shop soulmate romance--until he got to one at the very end that caused the hair on his arms to stand on end.

A story about you...and Alex P. Keaton?

It was the only crossover in the fan submission, and it made Eddie nervous once again that he misunderstood your character.

Alex P. Keaton who read the Wall Street Journal for fun?! And you, and artist who followed your heart and went on an adventure to find yourself?! No, there was no way.

"This is a bunch of bullshit," he muttered. He shut the magazine and ran a hand over his face and into his hair.

Eddie wasn't the one who misunderstood you; it was everyone else who did. And if they had written you so wrong in this magazine, he could only dream of how wrongly they'd written you in all of those other stories you told him about. How miserable you must have felt in all of those different worlds.

Shit, and it was not only you who felt miserable, but him now too.

The wild events of the past few weeks had made him feel like he was going crazy. Yeah, at least he had an explanation for it now, but it didn't negate the fact that he suddenly felt like a stranger in his own life.

And if he felt like that, God only knows how you must've felt.

"Shit," he muttered.

He needed to talk to you.

He quickly got up from the bed and raced out of the house, panting as he jogged across the trailer park to get to your door.

He knocked frantically and impatiently waited for you to answer.

His resolve broke when you finally did.

Clothes--pajamas, actually--mussed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, you looked a lot like you had during the episode where Mark had broken your heart and you'd cried to Sam.

Had you thought that he was ending things with you because he had been avoiding you? Because of this whole situation? He ached to think that he'd hurt you like that.

"Sweetheart," Eddie whispered softly. "I should've called. Shit. I'm sorry I--"

"No," you sniffed and shook your head. You were smart enough to put two and two together and realize what he was apologizing for. "No, it's...Eddie this isn't because of you...I mean yeah, actually it is but..."

"I'm sorry," you both said simultaneously.

"I'm sorry that I just left the other night," Eddie elaborated. "I'm sorry that I avoided the whole thing, but I needed...I needed some sense of normalcy in all of this."

When he paused for breath, you immediately swooped in with your own apology and explanation.

"Well I'm sorry I seemed to have brought all of this bullshit with me to Hawkins," you stared at him pathetically. "I've never...no one has ever seemed aware of it before. I've been dealing with this alone for so long. I know I sort of dumped it on you; not only to explain, but maybe because I found some sort of relief that I wouldn't be going through it all alone anymore. I'd have you with me at least.

"And then, after you left, I really had time to think...how long it's been. My show aired in the 80's. And your show...Stranger Things? I mean...between my last time here...someone put me in a modern movie for a short time...and then I guess your season was a few years later maybe? Twenty-twenty-something?"

Eddie's throat tightened. They were still writing stories about the 80's that far in the future? Sure there were war movies and stuff. Man, people must've been really nostalgic and weird otherwise...

"It must be like...a historical documentary at that point," he laughed dryly.

"You calling me old?" you choked on a laugh, and then looked down at your hands. "I guess I am, though. I've lived through all of these different stories for...lifetimes. One story might take...I dunno, a few months for its Writer to finish, but it spans years. Years that I've lived through, one day at a time, with no break."

"Shit...that sounds..."

"Terrible?"

"Yeah."

"It is. I've been dealing with all of this...alone...for hundreds of years at this point I guess. Through stories that still write me as a teenager, or a middle-aged woman. I've lived and died over and over. I've been an artist, a writer, a dancer, a private investigator...I can't even remember the last time I got to go back to Port Geneva.

"And now that you're stuck in this hell too," your voice dropped to a whisper. "It made me sort of dread that for you too. Dread what kind of life that Writers might put you through, especially if your story in your show had a tragic ending like you said. They could give you everything you ever wanted, or they could just kill you again and again, for fun.

"And it's horrible and beautiful and great sometimes, but at the end of it all, it's tiring. Talking through it with you made me realize how much I wished I could be free, that maybe...maybe this Writer who brought me here would just be happy writing a story about the two of us for the rest of their lives or something. Spare us both anymore torture.

"Because at this point...I don't even know who I am anymore."

Your eyes welled with tears again and your shoulders heaved as you held back a sob.

And Eddie wished that he could tell you that he understood.

That his few days experience being aware that he was in a story could compare to everything that you'd seen.

He could tell you he appreciated your concern, that he felt that sense of dread that you felt for him. Assure you that he'd be fine. That it would be alright as long as you were in it together, just like you said.

But truthfully before hearing you say it right now, he hadn't come to that conclusion that he might be stuck in some endless loop of happiness and misery forever.

Because he did what he always did: he avoided the bad things. He ran away from this problem.

So what could say that could help you? That would make you feel better?

He wracked his brain for a moment, coming up with the right words.

But if there was anything Eddie did better than run away, it was say the right thing at the right time.

And he did.

"I know who you are," Eddie finally found his voice.

He took one of your hands in his and then cupped your cheek so you could look into his eyes.

"You might have forgotten who you are, but I know. I've always known. From the first time I saw you on screen, I felt such a connection to you."

He felt nervous, revealing his feelings to you. Confessing his fanatic behavior, his love for you. They were things he never said aloud to anyone and it made him nervous and vulnerable. Made him feel like he needed to run again. But your eyes glittered with unshed tears, and he knew he had to soldier on.

"Meeting you was like...the happiest day of my life. And you weren't anything that I expected, but everything I knew you were, deep down. And you...you've always seen the real me too, which is something very few people have the patience for. You're exactly who I've been waiting for.

"So maybe," he paused and cleared his throat. "Maybe we only have a few weeks together, or a few months, or maybe it'll be a few years for this Writer to give us a Happily Ever After. Maybe they'll put us through hell. But at least we're in it together. And I'll be here to remind you who you are if you ever forget, and to make sure you're not alone for as long as I can. As long as you promise that you'll do the same for me too."

In hindsight, a kiss was probably not the best end to his little declaration, but it felt right, so he did it anyway.

He leaned in and softly kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then caught the softness of your lips between his.

The sound of your sigh, and the feeling of you melting against him, were the sweetest sensations he'd ever felt. It was a relief.

For a moment, right before he pulled away, Eddie felt a smug sense of superiority over everyone. All the writers who had made you question who you were, all of the love interests that they'd written for you--Alex P. Keaton could get fucked--and he resolved to make this a story for the ages, even if it never wound up on some fanfiction writer's page.

"Thank you Eddie," you whispered against his lips when all was said and done.

"We have a deal?"

"Yeah," you bit your lip and grinned at him. "It's a deal."

You backed away and, hands still locked together Eddie looked around the trailer park and sighed.

"So..." he scratched the back of his neck. "What happens now?"

Next Chapter: Reader Suggestions Coming Soon

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #stff updates #stranger things fic

[kurooo-is-here]

I got a request!

Kieran's Hydrapple trying to set him up with a Fem!Reader?

Little guy's been witnessing that boy being an absolute mess since he was a Dipplin and has had ENOUGH!

Ohoho, this sounds cute!! I assume you mean a writing request, so here you go! This takes place after the events of the Indigo Disk DLC.

Warnings: None! Just some romance :)

Notes: Kieran deserves a hug, I fr wish Game Freak let us hug him after all that went down..

Kieran checked his closet, which was full of assorted colors of Jinbei outfits. He sighed, closing the closet door again.

"Hydrapple, which color would Y/N like..?" Kieran turned to his Hydrapple, who was resting on the floor.

Hydrapple huffed and let out an indifferent hiss.

"I know, I know... It doesn't matter that much, but.. what if she doesn't like the color?" He asked, scratching his head. "Tonight is the Festival of Mask, and I haven't seen her in awhile."

Hydrapple hissed again, seemingly impatient. It stretched its head over to the white Jinbei, pointing at the outfit with its snout.

"White..? But I wore that one last year." Kieran huffed. "I've changed, maybe I should pick a different color-" Hydrapple hissed louder, as if begging him to just pick one.

Kieran sighed. "Alright, alright.. I hear you. Let's just go with white." He said, grabbing the outfit reluctantly.

"C'mon Hydrapple, get in your pokeball. The festival starts soon."

You were back in Kitakami! Traveling was easy for you since you were a champion of Paldea, but you still missed this place. The bright festival lights and music drew you closer to the town hall as you hopped off of Miraidon.

Miraidon looked eager to try the food, but you were more interested in something else. Scanning the area, you couldn't help but notice that Kieran wasn't there yet, so you decided to help yourself to a candy apple (and you bought a second one for your hungry dragon friend, too).

As you and Miraidon munched on your treats at a table, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Is that a candy apple? Oh man, I haven't had one in awhile."

It was Kieran. He was dressed in the white Jinbei he wore last year, back when you first met him. His hair was still tied up too. For some reason, he looked nervous.

"Oh, hey Kieran!" You smiled and waved, gesturing for him to come closer. "Do you want one? I can buy one for you."

Kieran shuffled over awkwardly, taking a seat next to you. "No thanks, I'm not hungry. Carmine made me eat dinner before I got here."

You giggled. Carmine was always fussing over her little brother. She probably said he was getting too skinny or something.

"Well, at least try some of mine! It's really sweet!" You said, holding out the candy apple.

Kieran raised an eyebrow. "Um... Is that like, sanitary? Maybe I shouldn't."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself!" You said, going back to eating it.

Suddenly, you saw a flash of light. Kieran's Hydrapple had popped out of its pokeball.

"Hydrapple, what are you doing?" Kieran asked.

Hydrapple hissed in response, seeming excited. It leaned forward and pushed its snout into Kieran's shoulder, trying to push him closer to you.

"What the- No, I'm not gonna share the apple with her! I can buy my own later." Kieran protested, lightly nudging Hydrapple's head away.

You made a pouting face. "Pleeeaaase, Kieran? Even Hydrapple thinks you should try some."

Kieran sighed and took the candy apple from you, taking a bite of the side that wasn't eaten yet. You watched as his eyes lit up.

"How is it?" You asked, grinning at him.

"It's... just like how I remember it." He said, seemingly lost in thought. "Thank you." His smile was small, but warm. Your heart skipped a beat, seeing him genuinely happy.

Hydrapple, still out of its pokeball, hissed at Kieran again. Kieran seemed taken aback at whatever Hydrapple said, because his face instantly went red.

"Wha-- NO! I'm not gonna-" He exclaimed, before shutting himself up to not draw attention to himself. You looked at him, confused.

Hydrapple seemed to... grin? It used its two tails to push itself closer to Kieran, then nudged its snout into Kieran's side again, pushing him towards you.

"Kieran, what did Hydrapple say-?" You asked, tilting your head. Kieran let out an exasperated sigh as he finally looked at you.

"Ugh... It said.. that we should kiss." He mumbled, his eyes trailing off. "But I'm not gonna, because I don't think you like me like that. Hydrapple is being weird again, I swear."

...You leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Kieran nearly fell out of his seat, his eyes widened as you pulled back.

"Wha.... huh? You....... w-what?" He stammered, his face turning red all over again.

You licked your lips, then smiled at him. "Tastes sweet."

Kieran sputtered. "WH- You just-- You kissed me! Why did you kiss me?! Is this a prank??"

You laughed, then shook your head. "No, I just love you Kieran. And you're cute when you get flustered like that."

Kieran seemed to short-circuit. His face was still red, and he kept looking at you, then touching his mouth with his hand. "Y-You... love me? Why?"

Suddenly, the bells in the town hall rang out, and people started shuffling towards the exit.

"Ah, the festival-" Kieran paused when he felt you stand up and grab his hand, and he got up as well.

You smiled as you walked beside him, his hand in yours. "Kieran, you're genuinely the coolest person I know. I had no idea you were suffering so much because of what happened last year, and I... I wanna be there for you this time. I really do love you."

Kieran's eyes met yours, then he sniffled as tears welled up in his eyes. He had to stop walking for a moment just to collect himself, and you stayed by his side and hugged him.

"Y-Y/N..." He sniffled, wiping tears out of his eyes. "I-I love you too, Y/N.."

You decided to sit down with him at a bench on the side of the path. There was a clear view of the sky, which was twinkling with stars. Hydrapple scooted itself next to you and Kieran, with Miraidon sitting on the other side.

It was a beautiful view, and you would remember it for weeks to come.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader #bro would DEFINITELY say “wowzers” after his first kiss #but i didn't wanna ruin the moment LOL #thank you for the ask!! #kuro writes

[withahappyrefrain]

Filet Mignons and Parking Spots

Summary: Against your better judgement, you agree to have dinner with the human equivalent of a Hangnail, aka Jake Seresin. A follow up to Matcha Lattes & Parking Spots!

Warnings: Language, lots of banter, Jake getting turned on by women who are mean to him.

Part 3 is up!

This was ridiculous. Absurdly so. 

He clearly wasn't taking you to dinner because he actually wanted to learn how to park better. He was hoping he could win you over with that small town billboard dentist ad-smile and be allowed into your pants. 

Which wasn't happening. No way in hell was he coming near you.

You refused to give him your address. Like hell he was going to learn where you live. 

You: I've listened to way too many true crime podcasts to give you my address. You've already shown signs of being a psychopath with how you got a Matcha latte with zero sweetener. 

Hangnail: ooo what's your fav podcast? :) :) 

You couldn't tell what was more annoying: his insufferable overall being or the fact he responded to every insult with a question whose goal was to learn more about you. 

Like he actually wanted to get to know you. 

As your grandmother would say, "His cornbread ain't done all the way in the middle."

And yet, here you were, outside the restaurant, waiting to see if this douchebag could show up on time. You didn't have high hopes, considering his parking skills. 

"Hey gorgeous." 

Fuck, right on the dot. 

Your lips couldn't help but part when you turned around and saw the bouquet in his hands. 

He brought flowers. The red roses popped against the anemones and white narcissuses. A yellow satin ribbon wrapped around the stems. 

"Figured the goddess of love deserved some gorgeous flowers," He grinned. 

You wanted to gag. 

"You're supposed to take them." You couldn't decide what was worse: that stupid, nearly blindingly white grin or the Texan accent that laced his words. 

You hesitantly took the flowers. They were pretty. But they were also given to you by a dude who couldn't park. 

And who drank skim milk. 

"They're the flowers associated with Venus, the goddess of love," He said. He looked so proud of himself, you could see him dying to pat himself on the back. 

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, I also had a Percy Jackson phase and went on Wikipedia to look up what was associated with each God. Also, these flowers are associated with Aphrodite, not Venus." 

The living embodiment of a graduated frat bro shrugged, undeterred from your comment, "I mean, they're basically the same." 

You took a step back, "No they are not….Jesus Christ, I have to teach you how to park and the difference between Roman and Greek Mythology?" 

He just continued to smile, "Told ya I need that second date." 

"You need someone to inspect that head of yours," you scoffed, trying to ignore that warm feeling swirling around your stomach as he opened the door to the restaurant for you. 

The human hangover had the audacity to laugh at your comment, "My squad said the same thing today." 

There wasn't going to be enough alcohol to get through this evening. 

—------------------------

You were stunning, absolutely gorgeous. The soft lighting casted a soft glow across your face, highlighting your beautiful features. 

Jake was surprised when you pulled out a marker and a sketchpad. You were keeping your word. You were committed. 

He loved it. 

"So your speed affects the angle you can pull your- are you even listening, Flyboy?" 

"To you? Of course," The lovesick look that had taken over his face remained. It would be cute, if it wasn't so insufferable. 

You scoffed, "Alright, then paraphrase it for me. You do know what that means, right?" 

You looked ethereal as you stared up at him through your lashes. Your brows were raised to indicate your low hopes for him. The way your bottom lip slightly jutted out, forming the most adorable frustrated pout Jake had ever seen. 

"Based on your calculated average of my speed, I need to decrease my that by about forty-five percent, which would put me at going thirty five and a half miles per hour. This would increase my adjustment time by," he moved his head back and forth as he paused, briefly counting, "....twelve seconds, which will allow me greater control of switching from a ninety degree angle to hundredth and twenty." 

"You pulled that out of your ass," you deadpanned. 

"Do the math if you don't believe me." Jake leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms as a smug grin spread across his face. 

He didn't know why Javy was so worried. He was winning her over in no time. 

"Wow," you looked up from your phone after toying with the calculator app on your phone, "You can do more than just count to one hundred and smile?" 

"Darlin," he chuckled, "You don't become the only current generation aviator with two confirmed kills by coasting on good looks alone." 

Boom. Stuck the landing. Jake was internally scoffing at Bradshaw's comments from earlier, about how he'd be lucky if he left this date with no wine thrown at his face. 

Jake knew he'd have you falling for him in no time, especially after you learned exactly who you were with. 

Your face remained the same, apart from a raised eyebrow, "Only two?" 

The corners of your lips turn upward into a smirk as that cocky grin of his faltered. 

"Within the first month at my last place, my cat brought me four mice and two birds. Just saying," you brought your wine glass to your lips, savoring the few moments of silence. 

Jake was thankful he had put the napkin over his lap. It perfectly covered the semi he had been sporting since y'all sat down. 

"Birds and mice are not the same thing as what I've done," he nearly huffed. 

You grinned, shrugging your shoulders, "I think they're pretty comparable." 

Jake huffed, "No they are…." 

Oh. 

You were trying to rattle him. On purpose. And it almost worked. 

He loved it. It was fun, listening to your every word. The fact he actually had to try to see what impressed you. And boy, did he want to impress you. 

"Um…are you two ready to order?" Your waiter asked. It wasn't the first time he had come in at an odd point in the conversation with zero context. 

You were thankful, because it meant that you wouldn't have to deal with the Abercrombie and Fitch wannabe model's stupid stare. The one where his green eyes literally sparkle and a dreamy smile plastered his face. 

"I'll take the hanger steak, medium rare, but with no caramelized onion butter and instead of the garlic mashed potatoes, I'll have the asparagus," you told them. 

"I'll have the filet mignon-" 

"You're at a steakhouse and you're ordering a filet mignon? The most basic steak?" You scoffed at him. 

"Oh, so you're also a meat expert too?" Jake asked, his tone playful. 

"My dad was a butcher. It's just soft, there's no other redeeming qualities about it. Ribeye or Hanger is better," you explained as you rolled your eyes. 

"Alright, then I'll take the ribeye. Medium rare." 

You weren't expecting him to actually listen to you. You were expecting a scoff, an eye roll, a comment about you being too smart, too obnoxious, too annoying. 

As if he could sense your confusion, he elaborated, "You said your dad was a butcher. Makes you more than qualified to speak on which cut of steak is the best." 

It was uncomfortable, how he hung on to your every word. How he remembered little details. When you mentioned earlier that you had walked to the restaurant, he asked what true crime podcast you listened to on your way here. The way he approached all of this like it was normal, like it was the expected thing to do. 

"Also, I have mints, if you want them. No need to avoid great food." 

"What the hell are you talking about, GI Joe wannabe?" That feeling of uneasiness began to morph into agitation. 

"Look, Venus, you don't need to avoid garlic and onions. I got plenty of mints, so whenever you want to kiss me, just say the-" 

A bread roll landing right between Jake's eyes interrupted him. 

"I have IBS and avoid dairy so I don't spend the next two hours on the toilet, it has nothing to do with kissing you, you Chippendale reject!" 

"So you think I'm attractive enough to be a Chippendale?" Was all Jake took from that conversation. 

The second bread roll that landed against his nose made him process what you had actually said. 

"So what do you eat when you're sick?" 

You should have ordered an Old Fashion. Wine wasn't strong enough for this. You pressed the rim of the glass to your temple, hoping the pressure would be enough to wake you up from this nightmare.

"How did you go from me talking about avoiding dairy so I don't shit myself later, to that?" You would have thrown a third bread roll, but the look your waiter gave indicated you might get kicked out of the restaurant for it. 

"It's an important question. Because you can't have Mac and Cheese, or pasta, or broccoli cheddar soup. So what do you eat when you're sick?" Jake repeated, unaffected by your comments. 

He was quite impressed with your aiming skills. He imagined the two of you at the Hard Deck, laughing while you threw darts, a gold wedding band adorning your left hand- 

"I mean, hard cheeses don't really bother me that much, it's pure cream and milk I really avoid," you shrugged, "Usually I order something with noodles and sauce, like Pad See Ew." 

He tapped a finger against his chin, which you were pretty sure could crack a nut with. 

"Good to know." 

"Good to know?" 

"Yeah, it's always good to know what someone likes to eat when they're sick." It was frustrating how you couldn't get a read on him. Was he truly being genuine or was just a dumbass? Or both? 

You scoffed, "I don't know why, considering I don't plan on getting sick anytime soon." 

"I hope not, I want to see you again sooner rather than later," He smiled, those darn dimples showing again, "but it's good to know for the future." 

The future. 

There were so many reasons to throw a bread roll at his stupid face. His heinous parking skills. His stupid callsign. The fact he kept insinuating that he would see you again. 

It would have been easier if he was just a jerk who was looking to get into your pants. That's what you were used to. Folks who saw you as just another notch in their belt, not someone worthwhile enough to date. 

Instead, he had an ego bigger than Texas, couldn't park to save his life and had questionable taste in caffeinated beverages. 

“Y’know, I think I finally figured out who you look like,” you said before taking another sip of your wine. 

Jake smiled before twirling that toothpick, which you really wished he'd stopped doing because it was extremely distracting. 

"Oh really now?" He asked, a devilish smirk on his face. 

"Yeah," a smirk of your own formed, "Pretty sure I saw your face in one of the stock images my college used for their responsible drinking course every freshmen had to take. You were the frat douche in the polo with a red solo cup, right?" 

He laughed. Full on, threw his head back and laughed. 

"You're fuckin' hilarious Venus. I could listen to you for hours," He told you after composing himself. 

Fuck, he meant it. 

You straighten your shoulders as you look across the restaurant, trying to seem as uninterested as possible, "Lucky for you, there's a lot about you I can critique. You just might get your wish, Officer Headache." 

"It's Lieutenant," he corrected, though the smile remained on his face. 

You put your hand over your heart, feigning guilt, "Forgive me, Lieutenant Headache." 

Jake couldn't be mad. You were clever, seeing that he had picked his rank being more important than getting his call sign right. 

He loved it, how clever you were, how witty you were. Talking to you was exhilarating, similar to how he felt when he was flying. 

"So why did you join the Navy? Did being an Abercrombie model not work out?" You asked, taking a bite of your bread roll. 

Jake chuckled as he shook his head, "Actually, I worked for Hollister." 

"Wow, thanks for telling me you peaked in 2009." 

"Oh, like you didn't have a less than desirable job in college?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He was trying to egg you on, but you didn't mind. It was nice to see that he could do more than just give you heart eyes. 

"I was a barista all through college because I had some dignity." 

"So you are a coffee expert!" His sea green eyes lit up when he spoke. That, combined with how he pointed a finger at you, it was…cute. 

Wait, what? No. He wasn't cute. He was annoying and cocky and insufferable and agitating. 

He was so close. Jake almost got a smile out of you. You were warming up, he just had to be patient. 

He most likely wouldn't get a kiss tonight. But that was fine, he could wait. He had a whole lifetime ahead of him. 

"Guess so. Which, to me, means that I can continue to shit on your beverage choices," you shrugged. 

"You say it like listening to you talk is a bad thing."  

Usually it was for other folks. Why he was an exception was mind boggling. 

"But long story short, when you join the Airforce, you get shipped out to the middle of nowhere. I already grew up with that, and wanted a change. The ocean was a getaway." 

"Huh, I'm surprised. You can say something that's not completely insufferable." 

He loved pleasing you. Jake made a mental note to text his mom later that she would soon get her desired daughter-in-law. 

"I'm more than happy to keep surprising you Venus." You gagged. 

Thankfully your food arrived before he could say any more. You made a mental note to give your waiter a generous tip. 

The roasted asparagus looked amazing and you couldn't wait to take a bite out of-

"Wait! Don't eat that." You looked up at him, your fork inches away from your mouth. 

"It has butter on it," Jake explained, causing your eyes to roll. 

"I go here multiple times, it does not-" 

"Excuse me! What is this roasted in?" Jake asked a nearby waiter, picking up your plate.

"Uh, ghee I believe?" Well, that explains why you always felt bloated after eating here. 

Jake shook his head, pointing to you, "She's got a dairy allergy." 

The waiter apologized, taking your plate away and assuring you that they'll bring something out quickly. 

"Here, have some of mine while you wait." He moved his plate over to you. 

"I'm not going to sleep with you," you blurted out. After all, that had to be why he wanted to play the hero, right? Lieutenant Headache could get fucked if he thought that was enough to allow him into your pants. 

"I'm aware." He didn't sound broken up about it. Perhaps he already had a list of other girls he could call after your date ended. 

"And that doesn't bother you?" You leaned back into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. Your mind kept trying to think of his offensive driving skills and not the fact that no one had ever paid that close attention to your dietary restrictions before. 

"I didn't do that in hopes it would let me into your pants. You said it made you uncomfortable. So….I don't want you to be uncomfortable," he smirked, "Besides, I can wait, Venus. Got a whole lifetime." 

You scoffed, as this Great Value brand Captain America was unbelievable, "Is that your way to tell me that you plan to kidnap me or something?" 

Jake grinned, "Nah. Just plannin' on marryin' ya." 

"I think you need to get your head checked." He couldn't be serious. There was no fucking way. 

Why would he? You were mouthy and sharp and loud and….he's had heart eyes ever since you first yelled at him in that fucking parking lot. 

Oh God, maybe he was serious. 

"Maybe you should learn how to park properly first before you think of marriage." You begrudgingly took a bite out of his steak, ignoring the soft smile that plastered his stupidly handsome face.

"More than happy to show what I've learned from you." You looked up. He was serious. 

Which was how you found yourself sitting on the grass, watching the human Hangover show his newly learned parking skills. 

"How was that?" He yelled, sticking his head out of his offensive Jeep. 

You waltzed over, taking your time as you circled the perimeter of his car. 

"You're awfully close to the line on the right," you observed. 

Jake scoffed, "But I'm within the line."

"You ever tried to park when some asshat in a big car is nearly over the line? Oh wait," you paused, "you've been that asshat. Anyways, it's next to impossible. So you're still a dick when it comes to parking." 

"So what you're saying….is I need more lessons?" Jake asked, leaning out the window of the driver seat. 

He didn't want lessons. He just wanted another date with you. It was so obvious and- 

"Definitely." 

Regret hit you as soon as you saw how his eyes lit up and a wide smile spread across his face. 

"So we're going on a second date?" 

"It's not a date. You need lessons, that's all." 

"Lessons….over dinner?" Jake was hopeful. You were reserved and he didn't blame you. But he could see cracks, a wall that was slowly but surely chipping away. 

"I'm picking the restaurant as you've shown with your steak choices that you still can't be trusted. And no, you're not picking me up. The verdict is still out on whether you're a serial killer or not." 

"Whatever you say, Venus." Jake made a mental note to tell Bradshaw and Phoenix to suck it tomorrow morning because he has gotten a second date with no wine thrown at him, just three bread rolls. 

It was then he realized you had leaned forward and it was the closest he had ever been to you. He could see every mark on your skin, all the different shades of color in your eyes. 

Man, he hoped y'all's kids would get your eyes. 

You were mentally kicking yourself for allowing him to get so close. The smell of cedar wood was overwhelming, you wanted to gag. His face looked ridiculously smooth, aside from the light stubble that graced the lower half of his face. 

And now you could see how his tongue and lips moved that damn toothpick, flipping it around effortlessly- 

Nope, you had to get the fuck out of here. You were not about to get caught staring- 

"See something ya like, Venus?" He asked, his voice low. Damn it, had he leaned in even more? 

You took a deep breath before pursing your lips into a sickeningly sweet smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

"Yeah, I do…" you voice was breathy as you titled your head up, getting closer to his face. You smelled like cocoa butter and your chest was pushed up against the car door and crap, could see the bulge he was sporting in his lap? 

Fuck you were inches away from his lips. Jake mentally scoffed at his squad, what the fuck were they worried about? 

"A second free dinner. Please thank Uncle Sam for me next time you see him!" With that you walked away, leaving him hanging. 

After taking a few steps, you looked back and couldn't help but giggle. He was in the same position, his eyes widening as he processed what you had done. 

You were going to be the death of Jake Seresin. 

He couldn't fucking wait.

And thanks to that fakeout, he could see your hands up close, confirming that a pear-shaped gemstone would look best on your left hand.

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