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greenglowinspooks · 6 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)

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Tw: N/A

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

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It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.

And Danny hated it.

He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.

In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.

After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.

He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.

Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.

Right. Scarecrow.

His escape.

The chase.

His mom.

“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”

“Oh.”

After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.

“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”

Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!

“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”

“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”

“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”

“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”

Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.

Danny sat down.

“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”

Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.

“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”

“Oh,” Danny said.

He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.

Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.

Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.

It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.

Tucker.

Amity park.

Home.

Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.

He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.

Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.

“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”

Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.

He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.

At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.

Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.

Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.

It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.

Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.

He was not about to cry.

“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”

He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.

Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.

He read the report again.

And again.

Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.

“What?”

“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”

“How is that a bad thing?”

“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”

Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.

“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.

“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”

“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”

“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”

Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.

“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”

“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”

But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”

“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”

“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”

Dr. Crane sighed.

“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”

“…Why?”

“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”

Danny paused.

“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”

“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”

Danny snorted.

“You care about laws now?”

“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”

Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.

“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”

“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”

Danny nodded. He could live with that.

“Alright, then let’s get to work.”

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc fic #liminal scarecrow #scaredad scaredad scaredad #not pictured: scarecrow frantically googling to see what he can feed Danny without killing him #and also going through everything in his kitchen to find something that isn’t spoiled #he lives like a 20 year old bachelor in terms of food. just takeout and moldy bread in there #maybe a can of soup if he’s feeling adventurous #scarecrow: ah yes I am feeding him soft foods to keep my lead on the GiW alive. No sentimental reason whatsoever #danny who is about to start bawling his eyes out:#the boy had to battle resurrected food for years. he is NOT used to being fed actual edible things #danny: scarecrow could kill me at any moment. that’s why he’s feeding me and worrying about my health and safety #btw HUGE shoutout to the riddler for cramming an entire gaming pc into a 2007 microsoft computer #or some shit like that #and just giving it to scarecrow. for free. just bestie things

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brewed-pangolin · 5 months

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Drabble request for Super Soap Sunday:

Soap and you find yourselves in an unusual place/set of circumstances when the mood strikes. How does he A) let you know what he wants and B) how does he get you in the mood too?

Domestic Bliss

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI: Explicit smut, some fingering, P in V, backseat sex, slightly Dom-ish Soap, tons of dirty banter, Soap being a needy little horn dog

This 'drabble' turned into a one-shot because I can't control myself.

Synopsis: You and Soap take the next step in your relationship, and his not so subtle attempt to rile you up in public ends with an impromptu session in the parking lot.

Reference for where this man takes you to Poundtown here

Word count: 2k

"Alright, ma'am. If I can just you to sign here, here, and here. Then we should be all set up." Your advisor instructed as you sifted through yet another mountain of paperwork. Your eyes growing numb and your fingers beginning to ache from the repeated minor motion of signing your life away.

You pushed the last pile of paperwork over the advisors desk with gentle smile curling into your lips. Glancing over at the man sitting next to you with that same smile, a loving fondness in your eyes as you both took the next pivotal step in your relationship.

A mortgage.

Soap's demeanor was calm. Stoic even. Letting you take the lead in this circumstance as you were the one going to habitate the home more often than he would. A thought you both pushed aside for now to savor the wave of domestic bliss that came along after you signed the final piece of paperwork.

Yet his cool facade couldn't hide the cerulean maelstrom swirling within the whites of his eyes. A look you knew all too well, and one that never failed to send a quick shiver down your spine.

But here? At the bank?

Your smile quickly curled into a smirk, rolling your eyes at him as you turned your attention back to the advisor across the desk. You couldn't feed into Soap's growing needy desires. Not in public at least.

Pursing your lips with a heavy sigh, you tried to maintain your composure by focusing on the task at hand. Eyes trained to the quick movements of fingers across the keyboard as your consultant effortlessly entered your information into the database.

However, even the light clicking of keys couldn't keep your attention as you caught the sudden tremor of his knee in the lower periphery of your vision. The frantic cadence of his boot heel hitting the floor tearing at your concentration yet again, forcing you the bring the knuckles of your right hand up to your mouth to hide the apparent grin quickly forming on your lips.

With as subtle movement as possible, you placed your left hand on the top of his knee to quell his growing feverish motion. Gripping your fingers into the fabric of his jeans and pushing towards the floor in a physical attempt to ease his obviously heightening arousal.

“Ookay. That’s done. Let me get this all printed out and you two should be all set.”

“Thank you, sir. Appreciate all your help with this.”

You share a quick glance with your advisor as he stands, his eyes momentarily shifting to Soap with a subtle curl in the corner of his mouth. You keep a close eye on him as he exits the office, finally turning to face Soap with a furrowed brow and address the apparent tension erupting between you two.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny. Would you please calm down?” You scolded playfully. Your lips a thin line of a smile, obscuring your clenched teeth as you dug your fingers further into his jeans.

“How much fuckin’ longer is this gonna take, bonnie? ‘Cause I'm 'bout to bend ya over this goddamn desk if he don't speed this shit up. He can bloody watch for all I care.”

"We're almost done, Johnny. He just needs to give us the paperwork, and then we can go. So just, keep it in your pants for another five fuckin' minutes."

Your tone of reprimand barely able to combat the deep, rumbling brogue in his voice. Shifting slightly in your seat to quell the growing ache pulsing within your core. A gesture that most certainly did not go unnoticed as you took in the hungry blaze radiating within his eyes.

"Johnny. Don't. No!" Your frivolous attempt to stop him was broken down immediately as he thrusted his hand between your legs. Pressing his knuckles into the base of your heat through your jeans. Shifting to bring his chair closer and caress his mouth and tease you with his whispering brogue to the nape of your neck.

"Gonna fuckin' wreck ya, bonnie. Forget th'mortgage. This my down payment fer tha sweet pussy a'yers."

"Goddamit, MacTavish. Not here, ya fuckin' horn dog."

"Horn dog?" He questions with that distinctly mischievous grin. Pulling away as he eyed your advisor walking back into the office. His calmness in complete contrast to the excited flush bellowing from your chest as you quickly swat his hand away, scolding him quietly under your breath.

"Overconfident bastard."

"Alright. You two are all set up. You should be getting a call within the next five business days once you qualify. Other than that, welcome to home ownership."

"Thank you." You shook your advisor's hand, grabbed at your paperwork, and made an immediate bee line for the door. Beating Soap at his own game as you left him in the office with an obvious growing hard on. Already midway to the exit of the bank when you eyed him barreling out of the office in your periphery.

You didn't want to lose focus again. Not now. Now when you had the upper hand. You Kept your eyes locked onto the 4Runner at the back of the parking lot as your feet moved quickly at their own accord. Your ears perking to the sound of its alarm, a wave of triumph rolling over you as the locks sprung free.

You opened the backseat passenger door to toss your purse and paperwork on the seat. Expecting to see Soap at the driver side as you tried to close the door.

Tried.

You glanced questioningly at the door. Only then did you notice Soap's hand gripping on the edge. Spinning on your heels as you came face to face with a fiery blaze and a hungry look in his eyes.

"John?"

"Get in."

"John?!"

"GET IN!"

You felt his hands on your hips the moment his voice registered within your mind. Thrusting you into the back seat, an excitedly victorious giggle escaping your chest as he crawled in before slamming the door behind him.

"Yer such a fuckin' lit'le minx, y'know that? Leavin' me th're wit a full bloody stonner." He growled, pulling your shoes off and tossing them to the side, frantically moving to the front of your jeans as you continued to laugh in triumph at his feverish need.

"Makin' me do the goddamn walk o' shame and...why are these fuckin' buttons so goddamn small?!"

"Ooohhh, what happened to that cool confidence, Soap? Thought you could handle yourself under pressure. Bein' a demolitions expert an' all."

"Yer pushin' it, lass." He spat back. Relinquishing the fight with the buttons in favor of simply tearing your jeans off.

"M'also not tryin'a fuck tha bombs, smartass."

Soap tossed your garments to the back, flaring his nostrils with a darkened veil in his eyes as he spread your legs to take in the sight of your silken arousal. Moving onto his haunches with a deep inhale, his eyes rolling back as he took in the scent of your growing excitement.

“Mhmm. Could smell tha’ sweet pussy in th’re. An’ ya already so fuckin’ wet fer me, aren’t ya, bonnie?”

Words escaped you as he pushed two of his fingers inside your soaking heat, your eyes fluttering closed as he slowly pumped up to his knuckle, teasingly preparing you for what was to come. Unable to restrain your body’s reaction as your walls reflexively clenched around him.

“Donnae think I didn’t feel tha’. I know what ya need, lass. An’ m’gonna give it to ya.” Soap lured to you with a husky purr, your eyes fluttering open in response to take in the sight of him stroking himself through his jeans. His steely blue gaze boring into your soul as he effortlessly worked at the buckle of his belt. A throaty growl reverberating within him as he teasingly pushed the waist of his jeans below his hips to expose his painfully hardened cock.

"Johnny, I-" Your pleasured whimper was cut short as he throw his muscular frame on top of you, sealing his mouth over yours in a wet and desperately needy kiss. His strong hands gripping into the flesh of your thighs, guiding them around his waist as he teasingly pushed his throbbing erection into your moistened cunt. Filling you to the brim in one fluid thrust.

"Th's s'my home, bonnie. Right 'ere. B'tween yer legs an' deep in th's beautiful fuckin' pussy a 'yers."

Soap didn't give you time or air to respond as he encapsulated your mouth once more and immediately began pistoning himself into your core. The force of his thrusts wiping whatever thoughts and words out your mind, only focusing on the feel of him as he caged you against the backseat with his arms bent on either side of your head.

"Steamin' hell yer tight, lass." Soap growled into your lips, pressing his chest down into yours, keeping you still and allowing him full reign to pound his hardened length into your heat.

His bulbous tip kissing the flesh of your cervix with each forward thrust before pulling out almost entirely to only throw himself back into you once more. The continuous motion forcing your back to arch off the backseat, pushing your pelvis into his to stimulate the sensitive flesh of your clit.

Soap pulled his mouth away in repsonse to your shifting position, leaning forward to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. His hot breath cascading down your skin as he grunted and moaned with every subsequent thrust, his relentless pounding forcing you to grip into his shoulders to keep yourself stable beneath him.

"Johnny...Johnny..." you whispered softly against his temple. His name the only coherent word you could manage to let fall from your lips as your mind and body fell into the depths of his desperate and needy pleasure.

"Jus'...lemme 'ave th's, bonnie."

"Only g'nna need...an'ther minute.."

Soap's gasping breaths washed over the flesh of your neck, his voice rumbling within his throat like an otherworldly mixture of a growling whimper.

And the moment you felt his hips begin to falter, you pushed aisde your own pleasure in favor of reaching his. Only focusing on him. His needs. His desperate compulsion to always need to fill you and mark you as his own.

"C'mon, bonnie. Come for me."

You responded to his grunting demand by simply pressing your lips to the flesh of his temple. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, letting him vigorously thrust his throbbing cock into your cunt until you felt the warmth of his release erupt deep inside you.

Soap's movements then halted all together. Burying himself into your heat as he rode out the relentless pulses of his climax.

Even within this impromptu moment, with him panting against your neck and you hunched beneath him in the backseat, there was always a certain level of intimacy that seemed to meld between you in the bliss of the afterglow. Cradling him in your arms as he slumped over in a limp and gasping mess.

"Fuckin hell, bonnie." He whispered, softly panting against your neck as he lightly pursed his lips against your neck.

"Jesus, Johnny. If I knew home ownership got ya this worked up, I'd it done years ago."

"Shut it, lass."

"Can't wait to see how hard ya get when I do my taxes."

Soap remained silent to your playful banter, responding only by continuing to kiss the curve of your neck as his body trembled, slowly coming down from the high of his release.

His mouth gently curled into a smile as he placed a series of gentle kisses up the nape of your neck. Chiding in once more to your jesting, his distinctive brogue thicker and more hoarse as he purred against your flesh.

"Won't 'ave ta, hen. Unless yer 'nta doin' a threesome."

"What?" You questioned, pulling him out of your neck to meet his steely blue gaze with a coitish smile.

"Uncle Sam already fucks ya in the ass, bonnie. It's the only time I'm yer designated sloppy side piece."

You can't hide the smile that emerged over your lips, pushing a piece of sweat ridden hair out of his eyes as you lovingly gaze up at him.

"Then I guess I'll be needing another down payment in advance. Just for good measure."

And of course, Soap obliges. Thrusting his still hardened cock deep into your core as he mutters those two words you love to hear.

"Yes, ma'am."

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @kkaaaagt @havoc973 @writeforfandoms @luismickydees

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morallyinept · 4 months

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NOBODY WANTS TO BE ALONE ON CHRISTMAS - A Javier Peña Christmas One Shot

Summary: You discover your boss Javi will be spending the night alone, working on the cartel case on Christmas Eve, so you extend a kind offer for him to join you for some Christmas dinner.

Pairing: Javier Pena x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 6.1k

Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️ "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/triggers - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks)/oral M receiving/fingering.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: There's some sexy Javi Spanish, not a lot, so I've not provided translations. Feliz Navidad!

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy & Happy Holidays! 🎄🖤

The yellowing fluorescent lights overhead cast a slightly harsh glow on the worn-out carpet that covers the office floor.

The colour, once a muted gray, bears the marks of countless footsteps and the occasional coffee spill.

The desks, a mishmash of transient styles, are strewn with stacks of files, half-empty coffee mugs, and a scattering of outdated office supplies, like typewriter ribbons and correctional fluid.

The air carries the distinct scent of freshly brewed Colombian coffee, a constant companion in the war rooms of the DEA office. Agents huddle around a communal pot, exchanging quick greetings and nods as they fuel up for the next round of investigations.

The walls are plastered with maps and charts tracking drug routes and cartel activities. Bulletin boards are covered with Polaroid pictures of suspects, illustrating the intricate web of criminal connections in Cali.

The faint hum of dial-up internet connections emanate from the few computers scattered around the office. The whirr of dot matrix printers echo intermittently, producing reports that will become integral parts of the ongoing investigations.

The agents, clad in power suits and shoulder-padded blazers work with a sense of determination etched on their faces. The sounds of phones ringing and typewriters clacking provide a constant background symphony, underscoring the urgency of their mission.

The office's ambiance is further accentuated by the occasional chatter in both English and Spanish, a linguistic blend reflective of the team's diverse composition.

Agents move purposefully between desks, exchanging information in hushed tones. The dated computer terminals emit a soft hum as agents navigate through databases filled with information on known traffickers and cartel activities.

In the midst of this utilitarian environment stands a small potted Christmas tree, perched on the edge of the desk of Javier Peña.

Placed there as a tiresome joke, created by the junior agents during a rare lighthearted moment he suspects, adding a touch of personal flair to the otherwise stern atmosphere.

He’s pushed it off his desk twice now and it keeps reappearing, a constant reminder of his own inward dismay for this time of year.

You glance at him over the top of your screen, hard not to on the regular, seeing as your desk is placed directly opposite his, your back to the window. Not a strategic decision but one you're thankful for when his dark cocoa bean eyes meet yours.

As Javier focuses on decoding messages or delving into the intricacies of ongoing investigations at his computer, that he types really slow on, tapping laboriously on the keys, his eyes will inevitably wander to the window.

There, amidst the rain-streaked glass and the rhythmic dance of palm leaves, he’ll always find you diligently working at your desk. Your concentration, juxtaposed against the vibrant outdoor scenery, often draws his attention.

In those fleeting moments, as your eyes lock across the narrow expanse of the office, the intensity of your work seems to momentarily fade away, replaced by an unspoken connection that hints at something beyond the professional facade.

It isn't just the shared pursuit of justice that binds you to Javier; it’s the exchange of glances, the uncharted territory of emotions that simmer beneath the surface.

At least on your part anyway.

Harbouring an attraction to your boss isn’t a wise move. A move that you’ve sat on relentlessly, trying to squash it into the soft foam of your office chair ever since you were transferred from the archives to real administration work in a real investigations office.

Javier is indifferent to you, looks upon with you a less-than-impressed, resting bitch face, but you’ve soon learned it’s the way his features have been moulded after years of chasing down hardened criminals in the dangerous territories this country harbours.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile.

But he always holds your gaze, far longer than you suspect he should. Just lingering looks that neither of you spiral into a verbal acknowledgement.

You bring him coffee with his reports on occasion, always making one for him when you get one for yourself; another unspoken routine you’ve found yourselves waltzing in. You know he needs at least three cups in the morning to function before the computer is even switched on.

You feel the gravitational pull of these unspoken moments. As you diligently work on your assignments, your eyes instinctively drift towards Javier's desk; a magnetised shift as you meet his eyes lancing back at you and you allow yourself to believe it could be a look of want, of some coveted desire he has for you as you squeeze your thighs together during the heated exchanges.

But of course, that’s wishful thinking.

You know that your crush is a pointless endeavour with no viable outcome. Javier Peña’s reputation precedes him. You’ve heard whispers from the team about the hookers in downtown Bogotá, even if they leave a heavy weight of disappointment and longing in your stomach.

Plus, there is that mantra of not shitting where you eat.

As the agents prepare for the holidays, Christmas Eve being where you find yourself, tapping away on your keyboard at a productive speed of seventy WPM, compared to Javier’s eight WPM - you know, you’ve counted - the potted Christmas tree standing lackadaisical on his desk serves not only as a festive ornament, but also as a reminder that even in the heart of a demanding and dangerous mission, camaraderie and the spirit of the season can find a place, however small, in the DEA office in Colombia.

Plans are exchanged and shared as your colleagues speak of them later on when they’ll clock off.

"I'm taking the kids to see the Christmas lights downtown. They've been pestering me about it for weeks." One says.

Another chimes in, "I'm heading to my parents' house for a big family gathering. It's chaotic, but I love it."

As the discussions continue like billowy rain clouds drifting around, Javier remains at his desk, seemingly engrossed in his work and you notice his obvious disengagement from the holiday chatter ebbing around him.

One of them dares to direct a comment towards him. “Plans, boss?”

Javier shakes his head and you’re certain you can hear a grunt. “Work. Something you clearly don’t understand the concept of, Ramirez.”

It’s enough to bring the team to an awkward hush as they settle back behind their screens murmuring to themselves indistinctly.

And the thought gnaws at you throughout the remainder of the day. The thought of Javier spending Christmas eve in the office alone, powering through, as the light from outside dims and he works by eventual lamplight on his desk.

You’ve seen it before, coming in the following morning to see him blinking tiredly into the stacks of paperwork that often drown him on his desk out of your view completely.

He’s known for practically living in the office like a hermit when he’s not out in the tacvest taking on the cartel's head first, or seeking solace in some hooker's cleavage, if you’re to believe those rumours that buzz around like flies over a festering pile of shit.

And that gnawing thought starts to bite harder in the late afternoon.

Hard enough for you to try and soothe the shredded skin around your nails having bitten at them for most of the day, as you find yourself hovering over his desk a little longer after gathering completed files for you to alphabetise.

He doesn’t look up at you, even though your shadow is still in his peripherals. The scent of him this close is intoxicating. Tobacco and a faint note of whiskey from the bottle you know he keeps in his drawer.

A swilling musk of sweat; the climate at this time of year is tropical and it ruminates inside the ill fitting jacket of his beige suit. A slight glean of it runs tracks down his throat and you lick your lips, trying not to focus on it too much as he swallows.

“Señor Peña-”

“Javi.” He corrects bluntly.

“-I couldn’t help but overhear you don’t have any plans for Christmas.” You begin, tactfully, keeping your voice low.

Javi finally glances up, a stoic expression on his face, "I'll be working. The case needs my attention."

“Surely it can wait for one evening?” You sway. “I’m sure the cartels will be celebrating and making merry. You should have a break, sir. It’s Christmas.”

“Just another day,” he swallows grittily.

The atmosphere in the office seems to thicken with a sudden tension. Javier, known for his abrupt stoicism, can't hide the defensive edge in his voice.

You sigh and gather the files in your arms. “You’re welcome at my place, if you want. A bit of dinner?”

"Christmas dinner? Mierda.” He scoffs. “You trying to play the good samaritan or something?" Javier says, his tone edging with a hint of spite.

His eyes, usually stern, carry an unusual flicker of irritation as they darken. “Did I miss the memo that we're suddenly one big, happy family in this office?”

You clock your colleagues, now silent and peering over their screens at the spectacle.

Javier, leaning back in his chair, retorts, "save the Hallmark moments. I'm perfectly capable of spending Christmas alone. I don't need company, especially not from someone who doesn't know when to mind their own business."

Your expression holds a mix of hurt and determination. "This isn't about charity, Señor Peña-”

“Javi.” He corrects again with gritted teeth.

“-We're a team, aren't we?"

Maintaining his composure, he brushes off the suggestion.

"Team or not, I don't need or want your pity, cariño. I've got work to do. And so do you." He stares up at you with a silent fury venting from his dark eyes.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not pity.” You correct, stepping away; cheeks burning up with some humiliation brewing.

He watches you leave towards the file room, and tosses a glare at the others who immediately begin tapping and working again.

Growling inwardly, he shoves the potted Christmas tree off his desk again and hears it topple to the floor.

The empty office seems to echo with the ghosts of the day's activities, the remnants of conversations and shared jovial laughter hanging in the air to taunt him long after you’re all gone.

Javi is sitting alone, the harsh glow of his desk lamp casting shadows across his caramel skin and making his eyeballs ache.

His long fingers trace the edge of the whiskey glass, each sip a bitter reminder of the solitude he’s chosen. The rain outside, a constant drizzle against the windowpane, mirrors the melancholy that settles within his chest.

His thoughts drift towards you, your invitation lingering like an unanswered question in the quiet room.

The disappointment and hurt swelling in the moisture of your eyes as he fired venom and hostility at your attempt at festive kindness. He knows it wasn't pity you offered, not really.

It’s in the coffee you always have made for him in the mornings that's just the right amount of rich and sweet, despite being from a cheap packet.

Your good nature, although grating at times, is what he secretly finds admirable about you - you care.

It's the care in your work, the attention to detail. The care in your questioning of your colleagues’ weekends and how you listen, hanging on their every word with bright curious eyes.

As he sips the whiskey, the amber liquid burns with a bitterness that seems to match the regret pooling in his chest. The files on his desk, once symbols of purpose, now feel like burdens, heavy with the weight of his own inane stubbornness.

He can't shake the feeling that he's missed out on something important here, a chance for a connection that has slipped through his fingers.

The loneliness presses in on him, and for the first time, Javi questions the walls he has built around himself. The whiskey, usually a numbing agent, now accentuates the ache of regret. He finds himself replaying the words he’d spoken to you, realising the rooted cruelty of his own defences.

The night unfolds slowly, the hands of the clock ticking away the minutes as Javi works through unrelenting paperwork.

In the quiet solitude, his thoughts mutate into a tempest of introspection. Your words batter his skull, your face.

He glances up at your desk and you’re not there, looking back at him and feeling his chest and loins alike filling with a tightness that aches.

The rhythmic tap of raindrops against the window becomes a thundering metronome. Filling his mind with flashes of your naked body pressed against his, the sound of your pleads and gasps filling him up as he fills you with himself.

Growls at the ache hardening between his legs, growling at his own stupidity, feeling a lifeline he's let slip away.

He glances around the empty office, the shadows dancing along the walls like phantoms of missed chances, beacons of potential connection.

His silhouette and yours, fucking in every position known to him, and Javi growls.

The weight of his own words linger in the air, each one a sharp reminder of the distance he’s purposefully placed between himself and his colleagues, and he’s not sure why.

He bends and picks it up and sees there's a label stabbed into the back of it, one he never noticed before.

The whiskey, now a bitter residue in his glass, mirrors the lingering taste of remorse and as he gets up to attend to a task, he trips on something.

The potted tree that he tossed so carelessly off of his desk.

Unfurling it, he realises it's a gift and not a practical joke played by his colleagues who have nothing better to do than mock his authority and professionalism behind his back.

Feliz Navidad, Señor Peña x

Placing the tree back on his desk, he lingers on the guilt.

The hum of the lonely printer and the distant patter of rain becomes a backdrop to his internal dialogue. What if, he wonders, he has misunderstood your invitation? What if it isn't about pity, but a genuine desire for his companionship?

The barriers he’s erected around himself feel suddenly fragile; the stoicism that has defined him now seems like a self-imposed prison.

Has he really been so blind of your affections towards him?

In that moment, a decision crystallises in Javi's mind. He can't spend Christmas alone in the sterile glow of the fluorescent lamplight, drowning in whiskey and the silence of his regrets.

His fingers drum on the desk, a silent debate waging within him. As he grabs his creased jacket from hours of sitting on it, the decision solidifies with every step.

The office, with its empty corridors and the ghosts of his own stubbornness, seem to release him with a reluctant sigh. He can’t stay here tonight.

Not when he knows now that you want him.

“Javi… I mean, Señor Peña.”

You stand on the other side of the door. The intrepid concern for a late night knocker in a city like this, melts away into something else as you peer at him on the other side.

“Buenas noches, cariño.”

He’s wet, soaked through almost. His hair sticking to his forehead like an oil slick, and droplets caught in the prominent pencil moustache that you’ve always wondered if it would be soft or coarse against your skin.

“Javi, please.” He softens.

“What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you to...” You’re a little stunned actually. The gall and unpredictability of this man never ceases to amaze.

He holds out a bottle that he plucks from a brown bag, tequila.

“Call it a peace offering, or a Christmas gift. Either way, I'm sorry for snapping.” Javi says, and you can feel the sincerity and regret radiate from him, burning hotter than the sun.

“It’s okay.” You say, with a blooming smile at the corners of your lips.

He questions it. Relief? Are you as genuinely pleased to see him as you appear? And it stunts him, your instant forgiveness.

He nods slowly. “If it’s alright with you, querida, I’d like to take you up on your offer if it still stands?"

He extends the olive branch and you’re only too quick and eager to receive it.

“Sure. Come on in, Javi.” You smile with pertinent relief.

You fix him a plate, reheating leftovers, as he perches on the edge of your lumpy sofa, feeling that it could swallow him down into its gullet at any moment if he truly relaxes.

It’s a rental, probably more than you can afford, bland with peeling paint and a musty aroma that lingers under the scent of your floral perfume that pollutes his head daily at work.

He shuffles out of his wet jacket, large wet patches dye the beige of his pants darker at the thighs and knees. He takes in the frailty of your apartment. The emptiness of it.

How nothing here reflects the sparkling personality he knows you have.

The air carries a faint scent of scented candles, the flickering flames casting a soft ambiance as his eyes find them gloaming on the coffee table in clusters. The muted colours of the furniture and the strategically placed potted plants create a serene atmosphere, a stark departure from the chaos of the office.

The harsh absence of the expected holiday decorations strike him. There are no garlands draped along the walls, no twinkling lights casting a festive glow. A vast, empty space threatens the room where a Christmas tree should stand.

Instead, the void exudes a calm simplicity that feels like a deliberate choice rather than an oversight on your part.

Noticing his surprise, you offer a small smile. "Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Javi, still processing the unexpected interior, manages a nod. The realisation that your invitation wasn't an attempt to impress, but a genuine extension of your simple world, settles within him.

The apartment, with its quiet and dated elegance, feels like a reflection of your character - strong, resilient, and unassuming.

"I didn't expect this," he admits, gesturing around the room. "I thought there would be... I don't know, more Christmas shit."

You hum with a smile as you pass him a plate.

Javi tentatively asks, "so, why did you invite me here, if it wasn’t pity?"

Your eyes hold a glint of sincerity. "Because I sensed you needed it. Christmas alone in the office isn't how anyone should spend the holidays. You work too much."

He takes the plate gratefully. Then he watches as you slice into limes with a blunt knife and toss the segments into a chipped bowl.

Javi, caught off guard by the sincerity in your words, feels a pang of gratitude. The walls he had so meticulously built around himself were showing cracks, and your presence seems to widen those fractures, as you seat yourself beside him on the sofa bringing glasses and salt for the tequila.

You lean back, studying him as he replaces his picked at plate for the bottle, twisting off the cap.

“So, you really are a good samaritan?”

"No, I just don’t think we realise what we need until someone offers it, I guess.” You shrug.

“Is that so?” He asks, pouring out shots into the glasses.

“It's okay to accept help, Javi."

“Do you think I need rescuing?”

“You don’t want to know what I think.” You say.

“Humour me.” He tempts as he hands you a glass. You pick up the salt shaker sprinkling some on the base of your thumb.

“Well, you’re an asshole.”

Javi chokes immediately on his tequila, spluttering it over the rim of the glass as you grin.

Then he nods, wiping at his long since loosened tie. “I am.”

“And you’re grumpy and you’re mean.”

“Never proclaimed to be Christ.” He smirks.

“Is it true what they say about you?” You question, carefully.

“What do they say about me?” Javi asks with raised eyebrows.

“That you… you know, spend a lot of time in Bogotá with the uh…”

“Hookers. You can say it.” He scoffs.

“Yeah.” You say swallowing back the tequila hard.

“Sometimes a man has his vices.” He simply says, pouring out another. He catches your face, bitter from the lime you suck. Or maybe something else.

“What about you, no boyfriend?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No.” He watches as you frown and try to mask it.

“Thank you… for the tree.” He says after a few minutes of awkward silence have descended upon you both. “I didn’t realise it was from you.”

“It’s nothing.” you shrug.

“We both know that’s not true.”

You smile, looking away. “Doesn’t matter.”

He turns your face back to him with a simple finger and thumb on your chin gently, dropping it when your eyes meet his again. You watch his eyes watch as you gnaw on your lip.

“Do you really think I’m an asshole?” He questions.

“Why do you care what I think, Javi?”

“Because I’d hate for you to think that about me.”

“Sometimes…" You admit. "But I just mostly think... that you’re sexy.”

His eyebrows raise. “Por que?”

“I mean-” You fluster. Shit. “Too much tequila,” you say quickly, feeling the heat abruptly flood into your face.

“You think I’m sexy, cariño?”

You reach for more tequila, but his hand, gently curling around your wrist, stops you.

“No.” You say, and he knows you're bluffing.

It’s out there now, that spoken want and desire growing limbs and becoming a solid form before you.

“That’s not what you said.” Javi, taken slightly aback by the depth of your admission, meets your twinkly gaze with a mix of curiosity and simmering.

“I should go,” he says, edging closer to you.

You bite down on your lip again, your eyes falling to his lips, pink and shiny as he runs his tongue on the bottom one.

A subtle drumming fills the silence between you until you realise it’s your heart beating frantically in your chest.

The air between Javi and you now crackles with a newfound tension, static that clings to your skin and makes all the hairs on your body stand tall.

“Stay.” You whisper, turning your body in and knocking against his knees with yours.

His hand around your wrist travels onto your thigh, moving up to your hip.

“If I stay, I’m going to fuck you, cariño. All night.” He husks, as your face draws near.

You can smell the honeyed agave on his breath. Feel it warm your eyelashes. He's so close.

“Stay, Javi.” Your hands climb the lapels of his damp shirt, twisting.

“Is that what you want?” He questions, dangerously close now.

You can feel both his hands circling your hips, kneading and squeezing gently, but firm. His forehead touching yours, lips so close to take in your teeth.

“I don’t want to be alone on Christmas. And neither do you.” You confirm.

The sharp citrus of the lime stings against your lips as he presses his mouth to yours, swallowing your gasps.

You taste his tongue; a faint descry of smoke and distilled amber dances over your own. Javi’s large hands caress your back, pulling you closer, cradling you in his arms as your kiss becomes deeper, more desperate.

You explore the uncharted territory of him; exhilarated and emboldened by his mutual want of you. Gasps pelt into your mouth as you finger through his hair feeling the silk of it, nails scrape down his spine over the damp material of his shirt.

His hands do all the talking too as he strokes them over your body, feeling the hilts and curves. He winds up your stomach and gropes gently at your breast, pushing upwards so it spills over your cami.

He glances at you, watching him as he flicks his tongue across your nipple, and sucks it into his mouth. He frees the other one and alternates between running his tongue and mouth across them.

“Eres tan hermosa.” Javi mists over your skin. And it pulls the breath from you to know that he thinks you're beautiful.

This man that you’ve coveted for so long, in the secret, sordid confines of your imagination and your sheets as you fuck yourself with your fingers to orgasm, is running his lips over your nipples and sucking them into his mouth as though he can’t get enough of you.

You can only choke out a gasp at how good it feels, how absurd it still is that he’s actually here.

Javi tilts your head back, fingers wrapping gently around your jaw so he can kiss your throat. You feel the graze of his teeth as he pulls on the skin, marking you as your hands fumble with the buttons on his shirt.

Revealing caramel, tan skin, you trail kisses down his throat, tasting the sweat that lingers in with the indolence of his cologne, notes of spice barely hanging on as you wash them away with your tongue. His skin is warm, smooth as you kiss down his chest as he leans back into the sofa.

You feel his fingers fighting with his belt under the tendrils of your hair. You take over, unzipping his pants and pulling them down his svelte waist as you glance up at him; your mouth dangerously close to his cock, freed and swollen.

You’re surprised at his size, hidden and tucked away in those tight pants on the daily and unsure how you’ve never noticed this enormity before. It’s not like you haven’t looked at his crotch when he stands from his desk, it's in your direct line of sight.

You can smell it, smell that salted crystal of precum glistening at you as it bubbles on his head, soaking his pink engorged skin, and you brave yourself to lick it. To finally taste him.

He shudders, you know you want to take your time worshipping him, suckling gently around his swollen head as his hands coil inside your roots.

Savouring the taste for yourself, only ever being able to imagine what he would feel like inside your mouth. Alternating between sucks and licks, you tease the length of him, taking him deeper each time.

“Fuck,” Javi hisses as he watches your lips suction around him.

You let your lips slide up and down the thick girth of him, smooth and warm, listening as he hisses between his teeth, his fingers stroking at your face.

You jerk him as you go, hand sliding up and down and pulling the wet tracks from your mouth down his hard cock, as he glides effortlessly into your fist.

You keep licking the head until you take him inside again, cheeks hollowed out as you suck harder.

“So fucking good,” he grits at you, a visible strain in his throat.

You relax your throat, opening wider, taking him in deeper and he audibly groans.

Your eyes flick to his and his pupils have bled into the chocolatey irises; a dark hungry stare tossed back at you that makes your clit pull tight in response.

You hum in satisfaction around him, listening to him enjoying your mouth.

He reaches forward, “ven aquí,” pulling you to him and twisting so you’re on the couch.

He kisses over your skin as he reveals it, pulling off your clothes until you’re naked in his arms.

His hands leave a desolate carnage of tingles as he traverses your body, fingers trailing delicately across your navel as he sucks on your lip, nipping gently between his teeth. You feel him, digits slipping further to the swollen, wet bud of your clit.

You gasp into his mouth as he circles on it, slick movements as your inner thighs jerk and twitch. You clasp onto his shoulders, kissing him deeply as he runs his fingers through your folds, teasing your hole before he pushes two of them inside.

“Javi,” you groan.

“That feel good, cariño?”

You nod. “So good.”

“So tight,” he groans as he slips his tongue in your mouth, the soft bristles of his moustache tickling deliciously against your lip. “Lay back for me.”

Withdrawing his fingers after a few teasing pumps, you lay back, Javi kneeling between your thighs and stroking himself. Spitting into his palm and coating himself with it as he watches your fingers rub quick, little circles around your clit.

His other hand strokes up your thigh and reaches for your breast; palming it and feeling your nipple pebble under the rough skin of his palm - rough and calloused from the constant handling of his Beretta as of late.

He kneels up slightly, running the tip of his cock inside your folds, greasing himself up with your slick. Tapping gently against your clit and you gasp as he squelches around you.

“So wet for me, are you always this wet?” He utters in praised disbelief.

You smirk, nodding. “For you I am.”

“Fuck,” he smirks back.

“You don’t want to know what you do to me…” You whisper.

“I want to know,” he says with deep hypnotic eyes. “I want to know everything. Dime que hago por ti, querida.”

Leaving forward over you, his hand splayed on the cushion above your head, Javi lines up, the thick head of him notching gently at your entrance.

"Tell me what you think about when you look at me over your desk," He urges.

Javi feels you flutter against him already, the desperation to suck him in as he bites down on his lip watching you. Watching your eyes flit from the centre of your legs, to his eyes.

“This," you breathe. "Want you, Javi,” you moan to him, trying to push yourself against him.

You move as he slips in, letting go of his cock and laying over you as his hips shunt forward in a smooth thrust, filling you full of him.

“Oh!” You gasp.

Your lips tear at his; your arms creeping around the back of his neck as he winds into you, grunting in your ear.

“Oh my God, Javi…”

The crest of his hips rattle against you, pushing you closer together as you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his pert ass.

He moves with intention, every thrust well thought out to feel every inch of you, to make you feel every inch of him.

“You feel so good, so wet around my cock…” He grunts into you.

You can hear it, hear every lewd, wet squelch as he thrusts in and out. Louder than your mutual breathing and gasps.

He pushes your left leg up against the sofa and leans forward, closer into you as his hips continue to piston in.

His breath is heavier, ragged in the back of his throat as it scrapes across his tongue and out into your face.

He kisses you like he’s in love with you; gentle clicks of his lips against yours. Sucking gently around your tongue as he puffs through his nose.

He runs his chin up the side of your face, nuzzling. The moustache feels soft and silken; finally answering all your probing questions about it.

He hooks your legs against his shoulders and stays close to your face, his hips doing all the work now. Hitting that spot deep inside you as he fucks that bit harder, that bit more intense.

You can feel the flames licking at your skin, the heat suffocating the room. The tightness in your belly, the way your limbs begin to contort with the pressure.

“Oh, oh,” you whine. You can feel it brewing, feeling it rushing through your veins.

He presses his forehead to yours in an effort to ground you, pull you back to him, but it does the opposite, it makes you soar. Your gasps become throated grunts as it builds.

“Let it out,” Javi coaxes. “Let go, cariño. You feel so good around me like this. That’s it, come for me.”

He glances down, watching his cock disappear inside your swollen lips, and coming back out slick and shinier with each thrust. He pushes down on your thighs, your knees against your shoulders folding you up as he ploughs harder.

Each breath in the back of his throat punching out as though he’s running a marathon.

“Oh my God, yes… Javi!”

“Come for me,” he pleads again, moaning around each syllable in a soft tincture that punctures your lungs.

He can feel it when you contract, that moment you flood around him. He watches as you writhe and shudder, your voice losing it’s alto as you sigh and pant, losing yourself blind to your orgasm.

“Oh fuck… fuck yes!" He groans as he can feel you shaking on his cock.

“Hold on to me,” he says, pushing your hands to his neck where you wrap them around him.

He kneels, hooking his hands under your thighs to pull you upright onto him, and closer, and you feel him hit deeper as you cry out.

Javi slows his pace, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip for a second as he completely loses himself. Pussy drunk on you, buried so deep inside that he forgets where he is for a moment.

The sofa creaks in pain with his tempo, both his hands on your ass winding you back and forth over his cock.

The sweat shines at the bottom of your back; the room feels like a furnace, despite the rain outside cooling the night's air that seeps in from the open window.

“You’re gonna make me fucking come so hard…” He’s growling now, you can hear it. Those husked grunts ribbing at the back of his throat, lips curled up over his teeth as he plunders deeper into your cunt.

You move, flexing your hips back and forth as you fuck him slowly, and he groans coming back to you. His hands slip back down onto your hips as he moves you, faster, harder on his cock.

“Come inside me, Javi.”

“Oh fuck, mierda… Fuck!” It’s sweetly blasphemous as he comes, grunting and whimpering, his own body shaking and shuddering against yours. Sweat glueing you to one another.

He groans out as he comes, filling you with his thick spend as your tongue knots in his mouth.

“Querida,” he moans, as you peck gently over his face, his arms unrelenting, refusing to let go of you.

He lays back, taking you with him into the breach of the sofa. And you smile at his face regarding you back; big browns that are just mesmerised in some post-coital bliss by all those little nuances, up close and in his face.

You become mesmerised too, by the way his tongue glides over his teeth, usually to show mirth or derision in the office, but here it commands desire. Want.

How when he smiles, the left side of his top lip is the first to crook up into that beam that drags his cheeks up to reveal dimples either side of his face, marred usually by his moustache.

It takes you a moment to realise he’s smiling. Javier Peña is smiling for you, and it stuns you, tracing your fingers around the edges of it like a fine piece of art, the beauty of it etched forever in your memory.

“Que?” He asks, observing your awe.

“I’ve never seen you smile before.” You say, shaking your head. “You should do it more often.”

You think you spy a blush creep into the bronze sculpting of his cheeks. Small capillaries flooding with blood.

He slips out of you, but you feel his fingers reaching between your lips probing and slipping around gently in the silken feel of him starting to drip out of you.

He runs his nose across your face, nuzzling into you further. You feel him, sticky and softening under you, and you stroke through his hair, matted with sweat and smiling as he pecks at you still.

He kisses you, tonguing around your mouth as you feel his fingers sliding inside you, pushing his come back in. His thumb delicately stroking on your clit, barely ghosting it as your shudder and clutch onto him.

He softly strokes you to another orgasm as you pant inside his mouth.

You don’t know what tomorrow will bring, how he’ll treat you in the office after this.

If this could become a regular thing where he brings flowers and tequila, and takes a spare key and keeps some of his things here, and has dinner with you and showers with you.

You try to ponder on if it will make things tense or awkward. If he’ll regret it. If you’ll regret it. If he’ll see you as some easy conquest, another notch on his bedpost.

Or if this could become something more.

It doesn’t matter, because right now in this moment, as the clock rolls over into the early hours of Christmas morning in the torrential rain that sprays over Colombia, Javi kisses at your throat with a gentleness about him you couldn’t believe could have existed.

And it’s the best Christmas gift you ever could have wished for.

“Feliz Navidad, Javi.” You whisper into the hairs of his moustache.

“Feliz Navidad, cariño.” He whispers back.

12 DAYS OF XXX-MAS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

#javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal characters #javi p #javi pena smut #javi pena fic #javier peña #javi peña #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x you #narcos fic #christmas stories #jett's writing

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transformativeworks · 11 months

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Seeing all posts about so and so merging with AO3 or this fandom archive moving over ...how does the process work? Like how do you avoid story duplicates or even authors? What happens when one author posts the same story under different names on AO3 and whatever old archive you're merging with? Can you filter that out? Easy of course if stories are only posted on the smaller archive and being moved to AO3 but authors post on different platforms all the time so I'm curious how the process actually works on your end.

This is such a great question! I didn't know so I went and asked the people who are in charge of moving archives onto AO3.

Eskici here! I’m one of the chairs of the Open Doors committee, which is responsible for all of the imports of offline and at-risk archives to AO3. Before each import is announced, we compile a spreadsheet with a row for every fanwork from that archive. (If the archive is backed by a database, we can often export this spreadsheet manually, but for hand-coded archives, we often do this manually.) Creators frequently email us shortly after we announce an upcoming import to let us know that their works from the archive are already on AO3 (or if they don’t want their works imported for any other reason), and we track those requests in the spreadsheet as they come in so that we don’t import duplicates. Then, as close to right before the import as we can, we manually search AO3 for every fanwork from the archive whose creator hasn’t already contacted us. Usually, we start by entering just the title of the work and a keyword or two from the name of its fandom. We try to cast as wide a net as possible so that we don’t accidentally filter out results from anyone who didn’t tag their work with the canonical fandom tag, with tags for characters/relationships in the work, etc. If we don’t turn up any results, we mark the work not found, but if we do find a matching work, we check to make sure the content is the same and then mark on our spreadsheet not to import it and instead invite that work to the AO3 collection that the imported archive will feed into. On the other hand, if we find too many matches to check all of them, we add keywords to the search to try to make it more manageable for our searchers. As you can imagine, this is a lot of manual work for us to do on top of the imports themselves, which are sometimes manual as well. Open Doors recruited for import assistants earlier this year to help with tasks exactly like these ones, and we hope to do so regularly in the coming years! If you ever have an offline or at-risk archive you’d like us to look into importing (with moderator permission), you can always reach us at [email protected]. And if you’re interested in volunteering for the project, keep an eye out for recruitment. We usually recruit for our different roles at least once or twice a year. Thanks for your interest in fanwork preservation!

#Mod Remi #ao3 #Open Doors #archive of our own #today we learned

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xiabablog · 6 months

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do you have any tips for speaking to/reaching out to recruiters? i'm looking for new grad roles and ppl keep telling me to but i don't even know where to start or find any and all the articles online are so intimidating

Hiya 💗

The people are right, it's one of the best ways to put yourself out there! Oh, this is going to be a long one~!

I'll share tips from my own experience, this might help you, this might because I did it any other way but this:

I applied to a bunch of jobs: like for 5 days straight I was just apply just for the sake of it. The more jobs, the more recruiters have my CV/Resume in their database. I recommend LinkedIn the most as it's super easy to drop a message to the recruiter.

Applied to jobs that I had 50%+ chance of getting a call to: Obviously this means apply to jobs where you have the skills and the experience (work or in building projects etc). I say this because say they do call you but they ask you if you have this certain tech stack and you say no... end of call really. So, for me, I had like 2 or 3 things they were asking for in a candidate so I got through to the calling stage!

LinkedIn is actually your friend, don't be afraid: During my random job searching and whilst I was in my job, I had recruiters message me about job opportunities. Why? Because of my profile. You need to have your LinkedIn vamped up, check mine out for reference (click the LinkedIn icon). But make sure to have your skills e.g. About > Top skills, your work experience (paid or volunteer) and any certificates you have! If you're brave, not like me, start posting on there for a while.

LinkedIn again but Connections: Oh my days please follow people, even if you don't know them personally. I have 300+ connections (not to brag) but I only know like two handful of the people, the rest are of people who connect with people who I follow, I have met like 5 recruiters through this way.

Actually message the recruiters???: Okay so you followed the people, your CV/Resume is done and dusted and now you're ready to message those recruiters! In my case, I had more recruiters message me than the other way round only because I'm shy hehe so I wait for them to make the first move. They would probably send a whole message about the new job that have posted and see if you're interested and then, if you like the job, you can say "Yes please" or whatever is the appropriate reply is, and then they will send further information or arrange a phone call! If you want to message them first, I would find them more after applying for a job on LinkedIn, they usually add the recruiter in the job posting as a way for people to message them.

DO NOT FEEL AFRAID IN MESSAGING RECRUITERS: I say this because a) imagine 100 people apply for the job, only 5 would message the recruiter (I don't know if the stats are right, I just remembered that from bootcamp-) because everyone else is too afraid to do it! Missed opportunity! b) recruiters actually want people to message them. Now in terms of what to write to them? I don't know really. I would always go for the classic "don't repeat what's on your resume", they're going to read it anyways, so just talk a bit about your experience and skills A BIT like

"Hello/Hi, my name is [name]. I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to express my strong interest in the [Job Title] position at [Company Name], for which I recently submitted my application. I'm enthusiastic about the opportunity to join [Company Name] and contribute to [mention something specific you find appealing about the company or role, if possible]. I believe my skills and experience align well with the requirements of the position. Thank you for considering my application, and I look forward to the possibility of discussing my qualifications in more detail. Best regards, [name]

No hire, don't be sad: Even if they don't hire you, or go through the next stages, keep in touch by even asking questions about what's on the market/what's new, how you could do better for other jobs you want to apply to that were similar to the ones you failed at. They could point you to the right direction! One recruiter said she wanted me to have more projects I was passionate about online like on GitHub or GitLab, even if they were "silly" projects - at the time, I didn't have much projects online so it made sense! See, I took that advice and now I'm a project making machine (a bit)! Advice they give sticks forever!

Remember, reaching out to recruiters and applying for jobs is a numbers game. The more applications you submit, the better your chances of landing interviews. I really hope this helps and I didn't make too many spelling mistakes! This is all of the things I could note down from the top of my head!

I've made other posts on on my coding blog about career advices:

🌐 Tips for Landing Your First Entry-Level Developer Job

🌐 Career Services For Web Dev (could be useful to you too!)

🌐 The Talent Cloud Community: Careers Workshop

Good luck with your job search!

⤷ ♡ my shop ○ my mini website ○ pinned ○ navigation ♡

#resources #my asks #codeblr #coding #progblr #programming #studying #studyblr #learn to code #comp sci #tech #programmer #career advice #career #job interview #first job #jobsearch #computer science

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tanuki-kimono · 6 months

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Hello! I love your blog bc it helps me a lot with writing and crafting. Thank you so much for making it!

Are there any patterns that deal with poison? Either in the pattern or in the dyeing process?

Even if there's not I'm glad you and this blog exist 💗

(anon continues) Poison in the dyeing process, like when green dresses were dyed with copper arsenite and it was extremely deadly.

Or a pattern of someone being poisoned, like a historical/folktale.

_______________________________________

Thank you for your kind words <3 I tried to keep things organized but the subject is huge so my of the top of my head answer is going in many directions. I hope you'll still find what you need :3

I'll briefly cover here dyes and (pigments), poison motifs, real life and supernatural poisonings. Buckle up we've got a long post ahead!

____ ABOUT DYE

Tbh I had to think for a moment because I don't recall major "poison" stories linked to dyes in Japan, be it fictionous or real (yet that doesn't mean none ever happened, especially considering Japan's history of industrial poisonings...).

Most gruesome details in the fabric industries I know of are about the horrific life & work conditions of female laborers in spinning mill manufactures (as in many countries, Japan industrialization process was ghastly...).

If potters and dyers had excellent practical knowledge, chemistry as a science officially started kind of late in Japan as it was not a local interest, and as rangaku (study of Western knowledge) often favored other subjects like medicine or warfare.

So, until the introduction of aniline dyes (not textile related, but this article about the use of synthetic dyes in ukiyoe printing is super interesting), Japanese worked with "natural" dyes, like ai (indigo) which was the most used during Edo period.

As with any ingredient, being natural doesn't equal safety. Some mixtures could be quite potent/foul, and process could be dangerous. Plants and minerals base ingredients could be toxic (cinnabar and orpiments were then used as paint pigments, and lead could be found in make up), as were mordants used to set colors.

If you want to easily overview which ingredients were used to create colors, I recommand browsing [Irocore] which presents colors with explanation in English in their database (pick a color then scroll down).

Not related to poison, but ai (indigo) is traditionally prepared in aigame/enormous floor set jars I find utterly terrifying:

I don't know if this tidbit can help you, but some dyes and mordants actually damage the fabric overtime, leaving them brittle (silk desintegrates after a while which is a huge issue in textile conservation).

____ POISON MOTIFS

Concerning "poison" themed patterns, none would be actually used traditionally on a kimono or an obi beside novelty items ^^;

For example, many plants can be toxic, but I don't see them set as pattern for this property - they'd rather refer to a poem, be a symbol of the passing of seasons etc. Fuji (wisteria) can be quite harmful, yet it's a beloved traditional motif in Japan.

You have much more chances to find pattern with kujaku (peacock) which are thought to be impervious to poison in Buddhism, than say venomous mukade (centipede) or the horrific ômukade (a youkai I covered in a folktale).

Snakes like the habu and mamushi are dangerous, but if used as pattern snakes are most often auspicious and linked to rain dragons or goddess Benzaiten.

If you squint hard, toxic fugu could count as poison pattern, but such a seasonal delicacy as a motif would mostly underline wealth (as those fishes are pretty expensive as they are prepared by specialized chefs), a kind of carpe diem spirit, or just a fun pattern because fugu balloon shape is cute ;)

____ POISON MURDERS

Poisoning was certainly a thing is Japan since ancient times (see kodoku sorcery). Poisons were for example used in some fishing techniques.

I am pretty sure some kuge and buke were disposed of this way - even thought poison was seen as a coward weapon (hence why its supposed to be only used by shinobi/ninja - even if this "fact" is opened to a lot of discussions!).

During Edo period, such murders made up the news and penny dreadful-like illustrated books favored by city dwellers in need of a fright. But those stories didn't pass to posterity beside cheap ukiyoe plates, and were never as popular as some shinjû (double suicides) or ghost revenges like poor poisoned and murdered Oiwa's:

____ SUPERNATURAL POISONINGS

If your poison is both physical and metaphorical illbeing, mushi could be your guys ^^ This term actually covers everything small and crawling, from real worms and insects, to anything inside one's body causing distress - be it a parasite, an unknown illness, an overboard emotion, a curse etc. If you've read/seen Mushishi you've got what I mean:

In fact any illness-causing being could count as poison-bringer. Hôsôkami (smallpox demon) was truly feared by all before vaccination was introduced in Japan.

Finally, continuing the supernatural poisoning trail, best girl is probably legendary fox witch Tamamo no Mae who among other terrible deeds made emperor Konoe fall sick with poisonous miasma (some version of the story attributes the disease to another monster, the nue). I covered a similar murderous kitsune folktale here.

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wildelydawn · 7 months

Note

“I’m telling you, Chay! You gotta download this dating sim! It’s so fucking cute!” Ohm scrolls a bit and shoves his phone in Chay’s face. “Look at him!” An angry, but very hot man in a full suit and pony tail is on Ohm’s screen.

Chay bats Ohm’s phone away. “Why do you even play those games?”

“Oh, please. You would eat this shit up. Between that nasty stuff you’re writing instead of taking notes and the spank bank you have on your wall- OW!”

Chay nudges Ohm again. “Keep your voice down!” Chay leans in, whispering furiously. “Writing about WIK is private. This is a stupid social media game.”

“You used to play dating sims all the time!”

“Yeah! And then I realized real dating is nothing like a video game!”

Ohm sends him a referral code. “Come on, give it a shot. It’s fun. And it’s not like you’ve got any dates lined up.”

“Ugh, Ooohhhhm.”

“Just click on the link and make an account! So I can get the coins! Then you can delete it.”

“Fine, but not now. I’m busy.”

Later that same night, Chay receives a text from Ohm, reminding him yet again to make an account for A Ravishing Romance!, the newest and hottest dating sim on the market.

According to the lore, the player is the protagonist who is visited by Nya, a “cat tamer” who whisks the player away to a secret island, The Meowland Marshes, where cat boys are running rampant. The protagonist has to romance each catboy, cat girl, or cat-person (depending on the settings the player chooses) and prepare them for the Adoption Party that’s happening in a week. If the protagonist fails to romance all the catboys in time, the Adoption Party doesn’t happen, and the Meowland Marshes are lost to the antagonists, the Kittjinn, evil spirits trying to take the catboys and make them their personal minions. If the player successfully dates all the catboys, brings them to the Adoption Party, gets all of them “adopted,” then the player successfully wins the game, and they get to choose the catboy they want to adopt.

The game sounds so bad that it could be good.

There’s a free version and a very adult version for some money.

Chay is not going to spend 400 baht on a dating sim. But the coins are important to Ohm, so he downloads the free version, starts up the app, makes his gender neutral character named WIK, and begins the prologue to the game.

The game…. Is really something.

Nya, the catboy who’s going to narrate the game, is a blue-haired, pale skinned, lean looking man with a black crop top, choker, tight leather pants, and blue jewelry and accents. Anndddd he’s sporting the whole cat ears and tail and teeth thing. After explaining the prologue (Nya picked you, the protagonist, out of the other 8 billion people on earth because you wrote the most Kudos!’d catboy fanfic on Database of Our Own), Nya whisks you away to Meowland Marshes.

There, Nya basically traps Chay’s character in an apartment and tells him he has a week to romance all five catboys on the Marsh. Nya gives you a weird looking whistle that attaches to your phone; blow on it, and you can call Nya for help, access the catboys you’ve already romanced, or take yourself to the Pawwwn Shoppe, where you can buy treats, outfits, catnip, leashes, and other weird cat (and kinky) stuff to lure the boys.

Chay clicks on one of the grasslands first because allegedly, one of the catboys is there.

Whisked away to the grassland, Chay encounters his first cat boy. He’s dark haired, wearing a white button up that is definitely not anywhere close to being buttoned up, with some maroon pants. He has his maroon blazer hanging on his shoulder, and his tail is up and ears relaxed.

“Hey there. Did you happen to find a watch here?” the cat boy asks.

The game gives Chay two options:

“Uh, no. Sorry dude.”

“No, but I can definitely help you look for it!”

Chay sighs. He needs to find at least three catboys to reveal the rest of the map and to get Ohm his bonus coins. He clicks on the second option.

“Oh, thank you! I was being chased by some rabid dogs, but I think I dropped it somewhere. I can’t leave it behind. It’s like a collar.”

*You and the catboy look around the tall grass. He captures three mice, scratches behind his ear, meows in a pained voice before you find the watch.*

The catboy goes from sad to elated. Now Chay can see his thick forearms as he punches the air. Pink hearts erupt on the screen. “Thank you! You’re a really nice person! This watch means a lot to me. But since you were so kind, I’ll let you have it.”

The game gives Chay two options:

“No thank you! I have a phone that tells time already. I’d love your number though! ;) ”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you. I’ll cherish it forever, Mr…?”

Chay rolls his eyes and clicks the first option.

The catboy goes from elated to coy, his thick eyebrows raised. “Wow, you work fast. My name is Kinn, but I’m not that easy. Come back tomorrow and I’ll think about answering when you call.”

The screen lights up and Chay’s character’s phone rings. Chay clicks it, and now Kinn’s number is there. There are three options: CALL, TEXT, ASK ON DATE, and all three of them won’t be available until tomorrow.

Chay sighs. He opens the map and finds another location: a spa. Why would cats go to a spa? No idea, but this game makes so little sense to Chay, that he just clicks on it anyways. The sooner he finishes these first quests, the sooner he can delete the game.

A high pitched musical note signals that Chay’s character has landed in the spa. There, he finds another cat, but this one has a mischievous grin on his face. His ears are twisted back, like he’s ready to pounce on Chay’s little character. The only weird thing is that his legs are in the water… his fully clothed legs.

“Aren’t cats supposed to be afraid of water?” Chay muses. He clicks on the catboy.

“Ah, did you bring me my red wine?”

The game gives Chay two options:

“No, but I have these extra large condoms and some harnesses if you really wanna relax.”

“No, but you shouldn’t drink. It’s only 1PM.”

Chay clicks the second option. The catboy goes from passive to annoyed, a little vein popping out.

“Who cares what time it is? I’m at the spa! Go find me a glass of wine and put it under my tab: Vegas.”

A sad face pops up on the screen. Apparently, Chay has met Vegas the Catboy, but hasn’t secured his number. So Chay must try again tomorrow.

“That’s irritating,” Chay sighs.

The final place that’s open to explore on the Meowland Marshes is the park. Chay clicks there and the same high pitched sound transports him there.

On a bench, surrounded by flowers and bushes, another catboy sits, with a guitar.

Chay’s jaw drops.

This catboy looks suspiciously like WIK. As in, real life singer WIK who’s currently promoting his second album on a sold out tour. The catboy is wearing a gray t-shirt and light-washed jeans, and lots of silver jewelry. His hair is longer towards the back, and his ears and tail are slightly droopy. He has a notebook next to him on the bench.

Clearly, the game developer is keeping up with the times.

Chay clicks on the catboy.

“Oh. Hello. Am I making too much noise?”

The game gives Chay two options:

“No, you sound great!”

“No, but you sound stuck. Want some help?”

Imagine helping WIK with writing a song? Chay thinks. Only in his dreams. He clicks on the second option.

The cat boy’s tail perks up immediately. “You write music too? That’s great. Can you tell me how this sounds?”

Suddenly, a really slow guitar starts to play. The tune is melancholy and sweet at the same time.

Sort of like WIK’s music.

When the tune plays, the catboy says: “What do you think?”

The game gives Chay two options:

“It’s perfect! Don’t change anything!”

“It’s really good, but maybe change…” *give basic music advice.*

Chay laughs. He clicks the second option.

The catboy’s face changes to a soft smile. Pink hearts fill up the screen, which didn’t happen for the other two catboys. “Wow, that’s good advice. I should get lessons from you. Do you come to the park often?”

The game gives Chay two options:

“Yeah, I love smelling the flowers. How about you?”

“Yeah, I love birdwatching. How about you?”

Chay clicks the first option.

More pink hearts fill the screen. The catboy’s smile gets even bigger and the guitar goes from his lap onto the bench. “Me too. I hate being at home, so I stroll through the park a lot. And flowers feel good when I touch the petals. I wish I could rub my face in them.” The cat boy goes from smiling to shy. “My name is Kim, by the way. What’s your favorite kind of flower?”

The game gives Chay two options:

“Uh, I don’t know the names, but the pink ones?”

*take a pink flower from the bush and put it in Kim’s hair.* “You.”

For shits and giggles, Chay hits the second option.

Red hearts appear on the screen while Kim the Cat boy blushes and touches the pink flower in his hair. “That…” There’s nothing else on the screen before the game gives Chay another two options:

“You look pretty like this.”

“I want to spend my life with you.”

Chay clicks the second option.

Suddenly, Chay’s phone becomes warm. Then hot. The app goes black and his phone shuts down, but now it’s burning in his hands. With a yelp, Chay drops his phone, and a silvery white beam erupts from it, blinding him. A strange breeze sweeps up the papers off his desk, and it picks up speed as Chay covers his eyes and feels his shirt billow against the gusts of wind.

There’s a loud thud, a soft groan.

Chay uncovers his eyes as the light dims.

A man in a gray shirt and light wash jeans is heaped onto the floor. With a flower in his hair.

Not a man.

A cat boy.

Chay feels faint as the man-cat-boy hybrid stands up and dusts off his pants. “Your life… with me?” as if Kim is continuing the same conversation from the game.

Chay can hardly breathe. “What the fuck is going on?” he whispers.

Still looking shy, Kim the man-cat-boy hybrid repositions the flower carefully. “I think it’s too soon to move in with each other. Maybe we can…” He looks up towards Chay. “I’m hungry. Do you… do you want to go get some noodles?”

#personal #my fics #myfics #lmao hi shou #this was fun to write #KimChay #KimPorchay #DatingSimAU #Shou-jpeg #ask #answered #i'm so sorry i'm so srryus #long post #no i did not play hunnie pop and mystic messenger obsessively what do you mean???#There's a Shugo Chara easter egg here for any magical girl girlies #Dawn's Ficlets

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deliciousangelfestival · 1 year

Text

Good Guy, Bad Guy - Lloyd Hansen Series

Part 5

Character: Lloyd Hansen x Rich!Female Reader

Summary: Y/N got what she wanted. The status of CEO is in her hand. But the sudden confession from Lloyd made her think twice about the divorce. Did she make the right decision?

Words Count: 4,050

A/N: This chapter timeline is set after Lloyd confessed to the reader. This chapter will be focused on Y/N learning her feelings.

Hope you guys enjoyed it. Comment and Reblog from you meant so much to me. Thank you so much. 💓🥹

This chapter is from Lloyd Hansen's Series - 3 Billion Divorce.

Check out Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 (Extra Story)

And check out my other stories from Masterlist.

A fool in love.

If someone called him that last year, he would laugh because, to him, love is a joke.

Lloyd Hansen a sociopath and the most dangerous man; he is the type of man who eliminates everyone in his way. He never let any task or mission affect his feelings.

But now, he looks clueless, thinking about which plan to get you back.

After everything both of you've been through.

You tossed him after the contract expired. No one ever plays with him like this. He waited three months, thinking you regretted it and will call him back. But no, nothing, Nada!

At first, Lloyd thinks you’re not his type, but he likes it each time you catch him off guard with your crazy ideas; he likes it when you become annoyed every time he provokes you.

And your love for money is also up to his taste.

Right now, he looks out of place at Carmichael offices. Carmichael knew his long-time friend was a chatterbox. But something felt wrong because this sociopath was silent the whole time. "What's wrong,Lloyd? Is this about your ex-wife?"

Lloyd clicked his tongue and then punched the table "Wife. I never signed the damn paper."

“Hahaha.” That laughing voice already made Lloyd's ears itchy. Her presence already makes his mood get worse.

Susan's sudden appearance worsened Lloyd's mood because of what she would say. "Y/N already found your replacement."

'Ouch!’ her words just added more salt to his wound.

"What do you mean b**ch?"

Susan gave him a middle finger. "Let me just say he's so much better than you. Wow, he still related to the royal family."

Lloyd snatched the phone from her hand. When he saw the photo of you hugging another man, his mind had already planned 100 ways to get rid of that person. He opened the photo comment and found the name of the person hugging you.

"Where did you get these?!!"

Susan grabbed her phone because she knew he would have smashed her phone into the wall. "It's trending on social media. Your ex-wife became famous after the divorce."

The truth is, she followed your fans' account.

That's one of the biggest secrets she won't tell him.

Susan is one of your biggest fans. She applauds anyone who could tame Lloyd. And her favourite part is you made him in a dilemma.

It's her turn to laugh at his misery.

He gave her a side-eye. "She's still my wife."

Lloyd grabs a keyboard and use CIA database. Carmichael doesn't even want to know how Lloyd knew his passwords. With facial recognition favourite, he could find out who it was.

Earl Thomas Kimberley. Thomas is a top photographer, travelling worldwide, famous in design, and shooting in a country with a refugee crisis that can move everyone's heart.

After his step-brother humiliated the family name, Thomas became the CEO of the family business in a shipping company. They owned 500 vessels, including travelling ships, car carriers, gas and oil tankers, submarines, and cruise ships.

A successful man with a bright future.

Compared to him, Thomas came from a prestigious family, just like you.

A light hum resounded in the silent room. Lloyd looked at the computer with an expressionless face.

“Something is off.”

“What?”

“Nobody has a perfect life. He must have a deep secret.” He grabbed his phone to give an order to his team.

Carmichael patted his shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

Lloyd told his IT team to dig deeper into Thomas. His habit of buying stuff online, his friends, his female friends, and even his porn history.

But after a few hours, they found nothing terrible about Thomas.

It made Lloyd anxious.

Looking out the window, where the sky is blue, Lloyd wishes it could calm his insecurity.

What if you like him? A good guy like Thomas.

Eight hours ago before the photo.

The sky is grey, and the strong wind gives the plane turbulence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're experiencing some turbulence. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts."

You were in the private jet on the way to England. Your former professor invited you to give a speech. Of course, you agree.

Even if you must defeat your fears, plane travel still brings goosebumps.

Your hands gripped the armrest tightly when the plane got turbulence.

“You should listen to music for distraction.” Jimmy was sitting in front of you, worried, looking pale, and he could see the sweat on your forehead even though the inside temperature was cold.

Jimmy sighed heavily; there's nothing he can do with your stubbornness. He knew you needed Lloyd but didn't know why you let him go.

It was Lloyd's job to make you at ease every time you travel by plane.

Before Jimmy, one of the people who disagree with your choice of a husband even though it's a contract, of all the men in the world, you choose Lloyd.

But now, he became the parent who was sad because his favourite son-in-law had left the house.

Even though Lloyd could be selfish and childish most of the time, at least when you were in trouble, he knew exactly what to do.

“If I listen to music, I will forget my speech.”

“Were you able to sleep last night?”

“Only for a few hours." You try to find a comfortable position to close your eyes, not looking at the window.

You usually get at least 6 hours of sleep when Lloyd is beside you. Since you moved back to your childhood home, the bed feels strange. And nobody helps to calm down your nightmares.

When you moved out from the house shared with Lloyd, you said this would be a new start.

You finally became the official CEO and could live alone without any worries.

But something unexpected happened.

‘My dear wife, I love you more.’

Lloyd's confession caught you off guard, and his words echoed in your mind, making you unable to sleep.

You’ve been pushing the divorce and moving out, mainly because you started to feel comfortable with him. It was supposed to be fake marriage, but you made a mistake with a sexual relationship with Lloyd.

‘Kill your emotion. You need to be a ruthless f*ck to rebuild L/N & Co.’

That’s your grandfather's last word to you before he died. You promised not to get f**ked by feelings and to prioritise the company.

You know your weaknesses. Good at business but stupid in romance.

But since you spend time with Lloyd. You kept thinking about him. And it's suffocating because of your ego; you held back from calling him.

That's why you said yes when your professor invited you to be the speaker. Remembering the youthful memories you had back in college was nice. If you go back, you could put behind all your trauma and ex-husband.

At the Debating Chamber.

In front of hundreds of people, you were relaxed while giving a speech and answering all the questions because your former professors and classmates were present to help you.

It felt like you went back to being a teenager again. There's no family drama because of your grandfather's will. You just focus on your study—simple time.

After the speech was done, you immediately rained with questions. Even with Jimmy beside you, he can't just push them away.

Until a blinded camera flash made anyone close to you feel uncomfortable. Somehow it worked to make people move away from you.

But the photographer keeps taking pictures of you. "Excuse me,sir, could you turn off the flash?"

The person behind the camera laughed. "I'll stop if you give me 100 dollars."

His voice sounded familiar. When the camera is put down, you finally get a closer look. You knew who it was.

Thomas Kimberley, your former classmate. It's been years since the last time you met. From everyone in your class, you are much closer to Thomas.

Probably because he also has the same family drama. He's the second son of Kimberley's family, but his mother is a mistress. He doesn't get along with his stepmother and step-sibling.

How did you know his drama? His stepbrother announced it inside the class to humiliate Thomas since he failed to become an Oxford student.

But you didn't graduate together. Last semester Thomas suddenly left and followed his dream to be a photographer. You heard this is his way to rebel against his father.

It turned out fine; he got what he wanted, travelled worldwide, and became a famous photographer. His appearance also changed.

Back then, he only wore a cardigan with a dull colour and jeans. But now his appearance has turned him into a good-looking man, especially when he wears black suits and thin gold frame glasses.

"Thomas. You jerk." You gave him a playful punch to his shoulder before you gave him a side hug.

You didn’t know some students took a shot the moment you gave a friendly hug to Thomas and sent it to social media.

Thomas laughed, “When they told me, you were coming, I thought you would buy this place.”

He linked his arm with you. “Ah, that’s our friend, let's meet them.” His act caught you off guard because Lloyd was the only man who could be this close to you.

And there it is; you thought you could forget him, but everything reminded you of Lloyd. You let this slide for once because you don’t want to ruin the reunion.

It was supposed to be a quick hangout at the pub. But one of your friends got this idea to visit another pub then another pub. You've never been this carefree and hungover. Looking at your friends singing at the karaoke and being happy. You suddenly have a thought.

After graduating, you couldn't hang out with them since your grandfather dragged you back to the States.

You were having a second thought. If you stay back then, do you still have a chance to have a normal life?

You stop daydreaming when someone hands you a glass of water.

"Thank you."

"When was the last time you drank after you became the CEO?"

You sip the water while thinking about the moment you get the position; you become more ambitious and almost sleep daily in your office. "Hmm, never."

You put down the glass and rested your head on your palm while looking at him "Thomas, are you happy after you achieved your dream?"

"Wow, wisdom time because of the alcohol." He chuckled and then was silent for a while. "To be honest, I'm not 100% happy. Because it ruined my marriage."

Your eyes widened when you heard his confession. You didn't know he got married. "You? Married? Divorce?"

Thomas nodded; he stared at the wall of liquors. "She doesn’t like my job."

"Because you always travelled around?" You put your hand in front of your lips. That was a slip of the tongue. You were too honest because of the alcohol. "I'm sorry."

Thomas doesn't feel offended. "That's right." He put down his drinking glass and turned towards you. "It's my turn to ask a question. I want to know how the famous ice queen finally fell in love."

You gulped. You will not tell Thomas how you met Lloyd when he was supposed to kill you. You waved your hand and acted shy. "He helped me deal with my family. That's why I…"

You were silent when you wanted to say the following words. Your mind suddenly recalled everything that happened between you and Lloyd. Both of you have been through heaven and hell together.

"...love him." Your voice became softer; maybe only you could hear it. Is it because of the alcohol that made you say those words or because of something else?

You suddenly stand up from your seat, making people beside you almost jump. "I… I think I should go."

Thomas looks at his wristwatch. "You're right. It's already late." He stood up to grab his coat and yours. "My driver will drive us both."

"Thank you."

"It's nothing ,Y/N compare how often you drag me every time I get hungover."

You hummed, remembering he always got drunk whenever he fought with his step-brother.

While in the car on the way to your hotel, Thomas saw you looking at your phone screen, not doing anything; he asked, "Is your husband still awake waiting for you?"

You shook your head. "No. He didn't come with me."

"What a pity. I want to meet him."

You wonder if you heard it wrong. He sounded sulking. Did your friend want to meet Lloyd?

You waved goodbye to Thomas when the car arrived at the hotel.

When you enter the building, Thomas' smile disappears from his face. He took out his phone to make a call. "Cancel it. We chose plan B."

The next day you woke up; you weren’t that drunk. You picked up your phone to check on your schedule. There’s nothing. You remembered last night you told your secretary you want a day off.

It was a sunny day.

You decided to take a walk from your hotel to clear your head.

You don’t have any plans. When you saw the nearest coffee shop, that became your first destination.

The coffee shop has a lovely aesthetic and is not too crowded. After you order a coffee, pick a seat at the corner near the window that faces the street.

While you enjoy your drinks and cakes, other customers keep coming; you notice the queue line getting longer.

When you look up, a man has his hands full. One hand holding a laptop bag and one hand holding a baby. His kid was uncomfortable with his arms, making him unable to make an order.

“Kendal, please hold on a second.” He tried to calm his baby.

“Professor Watson.” You greet him. He's one of the professors you adore because of his intelligence and wisdom.

He turned his head and saw you. Both of you met yesterday but didn’t have the chance to talk.

"Y/N. Haii…" He struggled to hold his daughter. You can't bear looking at your favourite professor looking like a mess.

"Let me hold her."

"Thank you, but I don't think,-" His daughter already stretched her short arms towards you. That was unexpected.

"Both of us will be sitting there."

After a few minutes, Professor Watson joins your table with his coffee and cake.

"Thank you for your help."

"No problem. What happened? You look… lost?" Every time you see him, he always looks like a perfect scholar. It's pretty difficult to approach him. Even though he seems scary, he will help his students.

After ten years, his style has become easygoing, and he is more welcome. He never smiled at his students. It's been ten years, and now you see the smile stay on his face.

"Haha, today is my day off. But my wife suddenly got called to the hospital. I thought it would be a good idea to bring my daughter to the coffee shop while I make new material for my book."

Wow, his personality completely changed. Before, he never shared his personal life. But now he still tells you about his wife working as a doctor and his son joining the football team even though you didn’t ask.

He seemed happy after he got married. If you get married, will your personality change too?

“You’ve changed, Professor. Back then, if we asked about your day, you would say ‘Nothing besides crying myself to sleep.”

“That’s true.” He laughed. “I used to be pessimistic about life, especially marriage.”

Kendall, the cute baby, is still sitting on your lap. She is fascinated with shiny things on your head, which as your hairclip.

"Wa, is?" Her chubby finger pointed to your hair.

"Ooh, this is a hairclip."

"Hai,- cip,-" Kendall keep mumbling, ‘Hai,- cip,’ for a long time. You are weak to her cuteness. You take off your hairclip and let her play with it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, she’s on the stage where she likes to play with sparkly things.”

“It’s okay.” You don’t mind if she breaks it. Anything to make her comfortable on your lap. The scent of a baby tickled your nose when you put her into your arms. Your maternal instinct suddenly kicked in.

“You’ve changed too Y/N.”

“Back then, we only talked about your assignment, but I could see that you carry an enormous burden. Right now, I can see that you have become more confident and brave.”

He pointed to your finger that was wrapped with a diamond ring. “Was it because of your partner who is the biggest support?”

After you heard his question, you remembered everything Lloyd had done to help you, guard you, and get your position right now. He didn’t ask questions when you asked him to do complex tasks. He just says yes and provides a great result.

Like today, you can enjoy your walk without worrying anyone could hurt you.

Even though you have to pay billions, with his help, you gain your freedom.

If that means excellent support, the answer is “Yes, yes, he is.”

You forgot about the time until Kendall made a fuss since it was her time to nap.

That means it's time to go back. You still carry Kendal in your arms until both of you arrive at Professor Watson's car.

On her baby seat, Kendal is still holding your hairpin, her father tries to open her palm, but she's persistent.

"It's alright Professor she can have it." You brushed her fluffy cheeks.

"Haha, you'll be a great mother, Y/N. Say, thank you to Aunty Y/N, sunshine."

Your body cringes when you hear the nickname. Damn Lloyd, for keep calling you that name.

He said while tightening his seat belt. "Let's meet again on your next visit."

After the car left, you went back to the hotel through the park. While walking, you sighed heavily. Your plan to travel so you could forget Lloyd failed. Because it seems like life doesn’t want you to move on from him.

“Did you enjoy your coffee sunshine?”

Your footsteps halted when you heard his voice.

He is sitting on the bench wearing a polo shirt, beige pants, brown loafers, and his favourite aviators.

"Lloyd?!!"

Lloyd followed you back to the hotel. When he entered your room, he jumped to the couch and rested his feet on the table.

He didn't talk on the way here; it's out of his character. If you look closely, he seemed to be sulking. After staying together for a year, you knew he would act like a child.

"Lloyd, are you alright?"

He scoffed and shook his head. "How can I be alright when I found my wife is getting close to her best friend?"

You were taken aback; did he just accuse you of Thomas?

"There's nothing between me and Thomas." You don't have romantic feelings towards Thomas even though he's a good guy.

There's a memory about Thomas that you buried.

Lloyd clicked his tongue. You are still clueless and dense with the opposite gender. From the photo, he could read Thomas' expressions towards you.

Lloyd took away his aviator and threw them on the table. He smiled softly, strode forward and stood in front of you.

You remained frozen, wondering what he was going to do. The next moment Lloyd stroked your cheek with his index finger and pulled you into his arms.

"Let's go to bed." He rested his head on your shoulder.

'Huh?'

Lloyd pats your back gently. "I'm tired. I haven't slept for 7 hours because I'm worried about you."

Without breaking the silence, you agreed with his request.

Inside the bedroom, you were nervous when you lay beside him. While you are anxious, the man beside you has closed his eyes.

You tried to twist out of his arms, but it was no use.

Lloyd brought your head to his chest. He held you tight as if to keep you from escaping.

"I missed my wife so much I thought I would die.”

You gently patted his back as if you knew what he was thinking. He buried his nose into your hair and took a deep breath.

"While I'm gone can you sleep?"

You sighed heavily. "No. Living alone made me more depressed."

He chuckled, "Stop pushing me away then."

You pinched his arms even though you knew it didn't affect him. Instead, he giggled more. But he was right; the answer for your insomnia is him.

But something has been bugging you for these couple of months. You break the silence by asking the big question.

“Do you think there’s something else after this?”

There was silence, but you felt Lloyd loosen his grip. "Like what?"

You gulped. "You know, like building a family?"

"..."

"Forgot what I said." You pulled your blanket and turned your body to the other side. But Lloyd's strong arm turns your position back to face him.

Lloyd didn't expect that question out of your mouth.

'Family.' Of course, that idea had crossed his mind. But the desire is getting stronger because of what he saw today.

He had arrived when you went to the coffee shop. From the car, he saw you talking with an older man; he didn't open the car door when he saw you holding a baby in your arms.

The image of you inside the house holding the baby. Their tiny hands touch your cheeks. And then you greet him with 'Good morning.'

He decided not to join your conversation and stay in the car. Looking at you holding the baby gave him a feeling of joy.

"Do you remember my confession?"

"Yeah."

You met his scorching gaze, and he smiled.

"The confession means I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sleep with you, have sex with you."

You remained frozen but still looking at Lloyd's gleamed eyes.

"It also means I want to get you pregnant, build a family with you."

Your heart began to race wildly inside your chest. Hearing his confession once again sounds completely different now.

Because you want to have the same goal as him.

It was dark inside the room, but Lloyd could feel your heartbeat.

"Tell me what I want to hear Y/N."

"I love you too Lloyd. I'll give you my everything."

Lloyd pulled you into his arms again, almost squeezing you. He finally found the answer.

The next morning.

The sounds of the alarm make both of you wake up together.

You grab your phone and see the notification that tells you the schedule for today. When you wanted to leave the bed, your waist suddenly got held.

"Don't go." Lloyd grumbled on your back while his eyes were still closed.

"I'm meeting the PM today. I can't miss it." Your finger tickled behind his ears. That's the sensitive part of his body. The technique makes you free from his hold. You immediately ran to the bathroom.

Lloyd growled while his hand ran through his face. He hates it when the quality time with you gets disrupted.

'RING.' He silently cursed; another interruption kept coming. He picked up his phone, turned out it was from Carmichael.

"Lloyd."

"Yeah?"

"I know you have plans to get rid of Thomas. But I suggest you don't."

"Give me one reason."

"Hermes."

Lloyd's breath hitched when he heard that name. Before he met you, he'd been searching for this weapon dealer called Hermes.

"The agency has been looking for this person for a long time. When you were looking for Thomas' flight schedule it's the same with Hermes everytime he made a deal and the description also matched."

So the agency finally got the answer. Thomas Kimberley is Hermes. He is hiding in plain sight using his famous status. No one would think a charities photographer was also a dangerous weapon dealer.

"You were right. He's not a good guy. But,-"

"What?"

"He seems pretty close with your wife."

Lloyd clenched his fist. “Don’t say anything that makes me want to kill you.”

Carmichael was silent for a while until he said “Be friends with him and make Hermes the agency's asset.”

A/N: Wow, Carmichael is heartless towards his friend, does he? What will Lloyd go to do? Is he going to help his friend or not?

Wait for the next chapter.

If you want to be tagged in the series, you can tell me from the comment. 💓💓💓

And if you have any questions or want to send any prompts and drabble, you could send them to my inbox. I'll be happy to answer.

This chapter is from Lloyd Hansen's Series - 3 Billion Divorce.

Check out Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5,-

And check out my other stories from Masterlist.

Taglist:

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#lloyd hansen x fic #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #soft!dark lloyd hansen imagine #soft!dark lloyd hansen x y/n #soft!dark lloyd hansen x reader #soft!dark lloyd hansen #chris evans characters #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #the grey man #3billiondivorce

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humblegrub · 1 year

Text

I’m not sure whether you’re into bugs other than inverts but figured I’d share with you as a fellow bug lover some rather exciting stuff I’ve been documenting over the past few months.

One afternoon while mowing the backyard I accidently almost mowed over the top of a caterpillar I hadn’t ever seen before. Now I have a small side hobby of raising caterpillars I find in my yard so I scooped this one up and secured it in my bug observation/raising box.

After some searching around I found out that the caterpillar was that of a moth species which according to the species’ database page is ‘little documented’

I took this as saying ‘hey bro, you should totally raise this one and document everything. For science.’

So that’s what I did. I’ve been in contact with the guy who runs the Lepidoptera database website for my country regarding my observations and at this point one of my photos of the caterpillar is published on the site as well as some information I’d documented regarding two whole new previously unknown food plants the species favours.

I collected the caterpillar November last year and released it as an adult female moth just a few days ago.

I’ve sent my final observation notes to the Lepidoptera guy so perhaps more of my documentation will be added to its species page particularly since I was able to document the three main life stages from caterpillar to the process of constructing the cocoon and the emergence of the adult moth.

Here are some photos for your viewing pleasure. The species in question is Anthela Acuta.

Caterpillar:

Next instar post-shed:

Cocoon formation:

Empty cocoon and pupa shell:

Adult moth (Female):

---

um this is INCREDIBLE thank you SO MUCH FOR SHARING!!! everyone follow this person's example and be a citizen scientist!!!!

#submission #citizen science #moth #lepidoptera

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sarawritestories · 10 months

Text

A Birthday Wish

Eowells x Fem reader

A/N: I am aware that i have not posted. It's been busy as all hell this week and plus balancing stories on here, but my own work is challenging, and I haven't quite gotten a routine down. I plan on posting stories that have been requested next week. Thank you for being patient! I figured in honor of my birthday being today, I'd write a little something for you to enjoy 😊

Summary: It's the Y/N's birthday, and she is trying to keep a low profile as she doesn't want to be the center of attention. Thanks to Cisco, Team Flash does find out and wants to celebrate. As she returning to S.T.A.R. Labs the man in yellow appears, she flees to meet Harrison only to find out there is more to him than she thought

Content Warnings: mentions of drinking (socially not to get drunk), kidnapping, brief gagging, being tied to a chair, and 1 very brief NSFW scene

Tags: @twilightlover2007 @eonash @yetanotherwells

Y/N awoke to the blaring alarm clock stumbling to turn it off she instictively grabbed her phone. Texts from her parents, wishing her a happy birthday already waiting for her to read. She groaned as she sat up another year, around the sun, and all she had to show for it was bad knees and a constant ache in her back.

Y/N was not a fan of being the center of attention, so she has kept her birthday a secret from her friends, not wanting them to make a big deal out of the day. Though it did not mean she didn't want to look nice. She put on her favorite teal dress that had capped sleeves and fell to her knees and put on her favorite flats, and was out the door.

When she arrived at S.T.A.R Labs, she found her friends hard at work as Barry was stopping an active robbery. She slid into her desk and brought her computer to life as Barry raced in the cortex, a huge smile on his face. "Nice work, Mr. Allen," Harrison's voice caused Y/N to look up at the man, his expression warm with a glimmer of pride causing butterflies to flutter in her stomach. "You are progressing nicely, and don't think you escaped my attention, Miss Y/L/N." His eyes met hers as smiled.

"Birthday Girl in the house," Cisco bellowed, standing up fist bumping the air. Y/N's head snapped toward him as everyone else's gaze fell to her.

"Today is your birthday?" Barry questioned brows furrowed, "Why didn't you say anything? We could have decorated the cortex and got you a cake."

Y/N sighed, "I didn't want you guys to feel obligated to do anything for me. It's just another day, nothing to have a commotion about," she shrugged, looking back at Cisco. "Spill it, how did you find out?"

Cisco bit his lip as Caitlin turned to him, "How many laws did you break doing it Cisco?"

Cisco put his hands up, "No laws were broken, I hacked into the ccpd database to look at your employee file."

Harrison's brow furrowed, "Hacking the police is breaking the law, Cisco. Regardless of how the information got out, it's out." Harrison wheeled over to Y/N and grabbed her hand, "We love you, sweetheart, and you being here another year is worth celebrating with the people who love you the most." He grabs her hand and places a kiss on the top of her hand, and Y/N was convinced her heart had stopped at the motion heat rising to her face. "Now, the four of you go on and enjoy the day off, celebrate with Y/N. I'll stay here and keep watch if something happens I'll call."

Barry changes out of his suit, as Caitlin and Cisco grab their jacket, big smiles on their faces. Y/N looked to Harrison, his eyes, a vibrant shade of blue that rendered her speechless on a good day, "You sure, we don't need to close up shop on my behalf."

Harrison took off his glasses and looked back at her, "Y/N, it's in my experience that life is short, and because of that, celebrating victories or even stopping to celebrate a birthday is worth doing. And tell you what when you're done going out and drinking Cisco under the table,"

"Hey!" Cisco grumbled, causing everyone to chuckle as Harrison smiled.

"You come back here tonight and have dinner with me. Sound good?"

Y/N's heartbeat raced as she nodded her head and stood from her seat. " That sounds lovely, Dr. Wells."

Cisco shouted, "Well, let's go. People there are drinka to be had and laser tag to play, come on!" The other 3 companions rolled their eyes as they all made their way to exit.

~later that evening~

"Shot, shot, shot, shot," the trio of Caitlin, Barry, and Cisco chanted as the burn of alcohol met her throat with the shot. She looked at the time on the phone, her eyes wide. "I have to get to S.T.A.R labs," she sat up and tried to pay, but Barry blocked her with his hand, "Come on guys, let me pay for something.

"Absolutely, not its your birthday. it's our jobs as your friends to cover birthday festivities. Plus, we want to do this because you're part of our family now."

Tears welled up in her eyes she could feel their love radiating off them, "I love you guys so much!" She rushed to give them all a hug. They held their group embrace for a minute before Y/N pulled away. "I have to go. I'll see you guys tomorrow!" Then Y/N was out of the bar heading toward a potential date with Dr. Wells.

Her mind was spinning with all the scenarios this dinner could begin when a blur of yellow sped past her into an alleyway red lightning tailing the blur. Y/N closed her eyes, "It's in your best interest to ignore what you saw." That may be true, but she could get some answers, and she would be lying if curiosity didn't get the best of her most days!

She groaned as she walked into the alleyway to be greeted with eyes glowing red, his body vibrating to the point of distorting his features. "Hello, Y/N, it's about time we meet." His voice distorted with his vibrating as well.

Y/N took a sharp inhale, "You know who I am?" She took a hesitant step forward.

He sped up to her, his chest close to her own, her breathing quickened as fear began to take over. He raised a hand to her, and she flinched, anticipating a hit that never came. Instead, his leather clad fingers grazed her cheek tenderly, his other hand moving from her side down to her hip. "I know a lot about you, Birthday Girl." Her eyes widened, and he chuckled.

His vibrations began to slow as the red dissapeted from his eyes turning into a familiar shade of blue. "Hello, sweetheart." His voice matched that of Harrison Wells, and her breaths were short and rapid as if she wasn't getting a lot of oxygen. She forced his arms away and backed away. Suddenly, the alleyway was spinning, and black was grazing her vision. The man in yellow took his mask off and revealed what she feared, Harrison Wells was the man in Yellow. Y/N's eyes rolled in the back of her head, and before her body could collapse to the floor, she was in the arms of the man who killed her best friend's mom.

~few moments later~

Y/N woke up, her vision blurred, but slowly becoming clearer, she was in a place she wasn't familiar with. As the memory from the past hour flooded her brain, she tried to jolt up and run, only to find she was strapped down to a wheel chair. Not just any wheelchair, the one Harrison uses. Panic flooding her system, she began to scream out, "Someone Help me plea -" a large hand landed firmly over her mouth, muffling her pleas for help.

"Shhhh, it's me," Harrison whispered in her ear, causing her to flinch. He moved around his hand, still placed over her mouth. "I'm going to remove my hand only if you promise not to scream and be good. Can you do that?" She nodded her head. Harrison smiled and lowered his hand he waited a moment for her to scream. When she didn't, he patted her cheek, "Good-" she spit in his face instead.

Y/N smirked as he wiped her saliva from his face. "You know I can't say I didn't deserve that. But will you let me explain."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Why should I, Harrison? You killed Barry's mom. Why would I-" Instead of silencing her with his hands, he did so with his lips crashing to hers. She found herself kissing back as his hand slid up her thighs and up to her ample breast, eliciting a moan from Y/N. He kept teasing the area her nipples were until they became peaks, causing Y/N to get aroused.

Only for him to pull away his hand slides from her breast to her neck and up her cheek. "I'm in love with you, Birthday girl. It's why i wanted to have dinner with you. However, I couldn't justify being in a relationship with you if I wasn't honest. Will you hear me out, Sweetheart?"

She searched his pleading eyes for any lies, and she couldn't, so she nodded her head. "One condition, let me out of the chair. I can't feel like we are on equal footing if i feel like your captive."

He nods and presses a button on his chair, releasing the restraints. Was she going to really hear them out, "You killed Barry's mom."

"I did," he nodded, and he told her the whole story of how he was stuck in this time and how he fell in love with her the moment he saw her in S.T.A.R labs. He pulled her onto his lap, and she didn't move against him. His touch still provided comfort still even after all the horrible things he's done. "What are you thinking about, Sweetheart?"

Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, not looking into his eyes. "You killed a lot of people. You killed Barry's mom. How do I know you won't kill me, too?" She looked at him, "Why tell me at all? Why today of all days?"

He slid his hand down her arm, gripping her wrist, his strong hand firm, yet gentle he raised her hand up and kissed the palm of her hand tenderly. As she swore at her stomach for the butterflies fluttering around at the gesture. "I am a lot of things, Y/N, but one thing I know for certain is my love for you and my need to keep you safe. As for why today? Well, beloved, it's because what better gift to give than for you to see me all of me."

Y/N looked from his gaze for a moment and back at him. She dipped her head closer to his and pressed her lips to his briefly. "I am going to have to think about this. You're a killer, and just being with you is a risk, along with keeping your secret."

Harrison or Eobard, as she found out was his real name, nodded his head. "I feel there is a 'but'"

She nodded, "But I had one wish for my birthday this year." She rubbed his arm and moved her hand to his chest.

"What was your one wish, Y/N?" He whispered, clearing his throat impacted by her touch.

She looked him in the eyes, her smile bright, "You. I wanted you."

Eobard stood up with Y/N in his arms and sped off to his home where he placed her on her feet. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "Consider your wish granted, Birthday Girl. I will always be yours until I'm ash in the ground. I will spend every moment of my living days proving that to you."

She smiled at his words, gripping his black sweater in her fist and forcing him down to her level for a deep kiss. She pulled away with a smirk, "Let's start with you on your knees, Speedy." She whispered against his lips, causing the older scientist to growl in response as he sped her into his bedroom where he would spend the rest of the night granting her birthday wishes.

~FIN

I hope you enjoyed it!

#harrison wells #the flash cw #the flash #the flash fanfiction #eowells #eobard thawne x reader #eowells x reader #eobard thawne

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fxckadoodledoomunson · 6 months

Text

Negligence |FINALE|

Summary: On the night before Corroded Coffin fly out to LA, you and the band go out for drinks. When you finally make a decision about your future with Eddie, something or someone gets in the way.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, misunderstandings, alcohol consumptions, vomiting.

Author’s Note: Apologies for not updating. Been having massive writer’s block. But I hope you enjoy the final chapter.

Tagged: @ali-r3n @somethingvicked @booksarekindaneat @tlclick73 @luvingdreams @sadbitchfangirl @lacrymosa-24 @emotionaldreamer @lail1010 @wh0reforbucknasty @thegreatbossjr @rupsmorge @siriuslysmoking @digital-charlie @decadentwombatmiracle @eris-rose-86 @savagejane1 @its-quinns-bread @allagogtoreblog

A few weeks had passed since Eddie kissed you, weeks since he told you that he would wait for you.

Since then, you’ve been going through the pros and cons of being a relationship with him.

“Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie say, as you sat quietly in his van. “You okay?” Eddie asked, as he drove to Gareth’s home. “You’ve been quiet since you left the video store.”

You turned to look at him, and smiled softly, before replying, “Yeah, just tired. You know, with training Brenda and Lee since Keith’s still in recovery and Robin visiting her aunt.”

“And no doubt Harrington busy flirting with customers, only to find that they have boyfriends.”

You laughed at Eddie’s comment when you felt his hand on top of your head. He then proceeded to tousle your hair, as he commented, “There’s my favourite sound.”

You smiled, as he moved his hand back on the wheel, deciding not to mention to him about the conversation you had heard earlier…

While Steve was at the front counter, you were training Brenda and Dustin’s new neighbour and a soon to be high school Junior, Lee, who was a movie buff. During the training, you and Brenda quizzed Lee from actors in the movies to which films were banned in which countries.

After Steve had finished serving a customer, you continued to train the other two when you heard the door open again.

You looked up to find Eddie standing in front of the counter, and smiled at him when Lee greeted him, “Welcome to Family Video, how can we help?”

Eddie chuckled, before telling him, “Actually, I’m here to see this fair maiden.”

He pointed to you, as he winked at you, which made you giggle.

“I thought you were meeting the guys,” you said.

“Yeah, I am,” Eddie replied. “I just wanted to ask if you would like to join us.”

“I guess my invite got lost in the mail, Munson,” Steve said sarcastically, as he was updating the database when Brenda lightly smacked his arm, as you told Eddie, “I’d like to. But I’ve got my bike-“

“Not to worry, I can put it in the van,” Eddie interjected.

You smiled, as you replied, while giving him your bike lock key, “Okay. I just need to go over some more training stuff, and then I’ll be ready.”

“I’ll wait by the carriage, milady,” Eddie replied, as he bowed to you, making you and Brenda giggle.

As soon as Eddie was leaving, Steve sarcastically said, “Thanks for inviting the rest of us.”

“No one’s stopping you guys from coming, Harrington,” Eddie chortled, before telling him, as he started walking out. “Don’t work too hard, big boy!”

As Eddie went out and grabbed your bike to put in the van, you, Brenda and Lee laughed, while Steve shook his head, grumbling, “I hate him sometimes.”

After going through the last part of the training, you asked them if they were okay with doing the job on their own.

“I’m sure we’ll be okay,” Brenda replied. “If we get stuck, we can ask Steve. You have fun tonight.”

“Are you guys gonna come for drinks later?” You asked.

“I’ll be there,” Steve replied. “But I’ll be a little late. I have a date with Naomi at Enzo’s after I pick up Henderson.”

“Hey, before you go on your date, can I ride with you too?” Lee pleaded. “Last time, I got on the wrong bus and got lost.”

Steve huffed, when you silently gestured to him to give the young boy a ride.

“Okay,” Steve responded, before sternly telling him, whilst pointing at him with a video tape. “But if I find even a speck of dirt on my carpet, your ass is grass.”

Lee nervously nodded, when you assured him, “Ignore him. Dustin wipes his feet in the car all the time, and he still drives him.”

You then turned to Brenda and asked if she was coming.

“I’m seeing Aliens with David tonight, so I can’t make it.”

“Okay, I hope you guys enjoy the movie,” you told her, as you went to grab your bag from the break room, when you looked up at the work schedule on the wall. Earlier, you noticed that you had a week off the same week as the band being away, which you were suspicious about. When you asked Steve about it before, he shrugged before he mentioned that you were working everyday for the past weeks and that you needed to take a vacation to rest. As you were stepping out of the break room, you overheard an unaware Steve and Brenda talking about you and Eddie.

“If she wants to be with Eddie, she’ll be with him in her own time,” Brenda told Steve in a hushed tone.

“Wait, I thought that they were already dating,” Lee interjected.

“Well, she needs to get with him, before someone else snatches him away from her,” Steve told them.

Your heart sank, hearing him say that. Eddie did say that he would wait for you, but how long would it be before he decided to be with someone else?

Back in the present, you and Eddie were parked outside Gareth’s house, waiting for the rest of the boys to come out. You sat in silence again, waiting for the others to come when Eddie gently tapped your shoulder, and softly asked, “Hey, are you sure that you’re okay?”

You nodded, and replied, “Yeah.”

Suddenly, Eddie pressed his hand against your forehead, which made you furrow your eyebrows. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Just checking your temperature,” Eddie replied, as he pressed his other hand against his own forehead.

You lightly slapped his hand away, as you giggled. “I’m okay, really,” you told him.

“Okay, I won’t ask again,” Eddie chortled as he raised his hands, before slapping them back on the wheel.

You turned your head and kept your eye out for the others, while Eddie frantically tapped the wheel when he focused on you. I know I should wait, he thought. But I really want to tell her now.

Eddie cleared his throat, before saying your name. You turned to him, and told him, “I told you before, Eddie, I’m okay-“

“I wasn’t gonna ask that,” Eddie interjected.

Your face softened, as you watched him rummaging through his pockets. Wondering what he was reaching for, you heard him say, “There’s something I can’t wait to-“

“Boo!”

The pair of you screamed in fright, as Eddie grabbed your hand, seeing Gareth pressing his face against the window, pulling faces at you.

“Jesus Christ, Emerson!” Eddie scolded, as a laughing Gareth got in the back seat, followed by Jeff and Grant. “Are you trying to kill us?”

“Well maybe if you two weren’t so occupied, you would’ve seen us,” Gareth retorted, as he and the others put on their seatbelts when he asked, “So, are you gonna drive, Munson? Or are you gonna just sit and hold her hand?”

The other boys snickered, as you and Eddie looked down at your hands, making you blush. Realising that he was holding on to yours, Eddie immediately moved his hand away and placed it on the wheel, before turning the ignition. As he started driving to the Hideout, Eddie looked over to you, laughing at something Jeff said, as he thought to himself, I need to tell her tonight.

A few moments later, you and the band parked outside the Hideout. You were about to open your door when Eddie stopped you. “I’ll get that for you,” he said, as he got out of the van and rushed to your side, to let you out.

As he took your hand and helped you out of the van, you both heard Gareth mock, “Will a certain gentleman help us out too?”

You turned to find three of the guys raising their hands daintily towards Eddie’s direction, whilst suppressing their laughter. You then shifted your attention to Eddie who smirked at them, reaching for Gareth’s hand, before flipping the guys off, causing you to slap his hand down, as you laughed, “Eddie!”

After Eddie told the boys to get out of the van, you all started to make your way through bar, as Eddie had put his arm around your shoulder, with the rest of the group behind them, whispering. “So, you think she’ll say yes?” Grant quietly asked.

“Well, I hope so,” Jeff replied. “Otherwise, he planned it all for nothing.”

As you all went over to a booth, you were greeted by Tom, who turned to the new barmaid, Lottie, and told her your usual drinks.

You first saw her about a week ago when you went to have a drink with Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Eddie, before both women went away, but you had never spoken to her.

You watched Lottie grab the pint glasses and started pouring a couple of beers when you heard Eddie say, “I’ll go and pay for the drinks.”

You turned to him, as you watched him stand up, and walking up to the bar, before he started chatting to Lottie, whilst giving her the money.

You then heard Gareth comment on how hot she was.

“And a little too old for you,” Grant said, as he nudged him, making Jeff laugh.

“Hey! I might have a chance,” Gareth retorted.

“Yeah, in your dreams,” Jeff sarcastically said, as he tousled his hair.

You watched the brunette placing the glasses on a tray, as the rest of the guys changed the subject and started talking about the trip and audition. You didn’t join in the conversation, as you were busy staring at Eddie and Lottie chatting and laughing, when suddenly, you saw Lottie looking over at you, before saying something to Eddie. You were pretty sure that she was asking him if you were his girlfriend, as you were trying to lip read before she pointed at you to him. He turned his head to look at your direction, before turning back and shook his head.

Your heart sank, unsure what she was saying to him, as she leaned over to grab a packet of pork rinds to give to him. You then witnessed him laughing, assuming that she was flirting him, after she winked at him. Suddenly, you had a flashback to what Steve told Brenda and Lee earlier…

“She needs to get with him, before someone else snatches him away from her.”

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a loud familiar feminine laugh. You looked over to one of the other booths to find Gwen sitting with a red haired concerned woman. You could see that Gwen had too much to drink, as she started to ramble, before she turned to face you.

“Do you know her?” Grant asked, as he noticed her glaring at you.

“Just someone from that double date I went to with Steve,” you mumbled, as you watched her get up when she started to stumble. Luckily, her friend grabbed her in time and started walking her out of the door. Suddenly, Gwen stumbled close to your booth, and slurred, “What are you looking at?”

“Gwen, come on,” her friend sternly told her, as she pulled her away. As they were leaving, her friend gave you an apologetic look, as she mouthed, “Sorry.”

After they left, the boys asked if you were okay when Eddie approached the booth with the tray of drinks, as he apologised, “Sorry for the wait. I was giving Lottie recommendations for places to visit in Indianapolis.”

After he placed the tray down, he asked you, whilst sitting next to you, “You okay? I saw what happened with that woman.”

“I’m okay,” you replied, as he passed your drink to you. “I just hope that she and her friend will get home okay.”

“So, other than that, what did I miss?”

“Gareth thinks that he stands a chance with Lottie,” Jeff chortled.

Eddie laughed, before telling Gareth, “No offence, dude. But, you’re not her type.”

What’s that supposed to mean? You thought, Does Eddie like her?

The boys continued to tease Gareth, who slammed his hand on the table, as he interrupted, “Okay! Enough! Are we gonna drink or what?”

You felt relieved that Gareth stopped them going any further. After he and everyone else grabbed their drinks, Eddie smiled, as he lifted his glass, before making a toast, “To Corroded Coffin. And to the success that the band will receive.”

You and the rest of the band cheered, as you all clinked your glasses together, “To Corroded Coffin!”

A couple of rounds later, Eddie got up from his seat, and announced that he was getting another drink, before asking everyone else if they wanted another drink. “Remember, you’ve had two beers so far,” Grant pointed out. “So maybe-“

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna get a root beer,” Eddie chuckled, as you gave him some cash. “Thanks sweetheart,” he said, as he winked at you, before heading to the bar once again.

As you watched Eddie talking to Lottie, you noticed that she playfully patted his shoulder, making your heart sink once more. You sighed, as you watched Eddie laugh at something Lottie said, before you got up from your seat, deciding to go up to Eddie.

Maybe Steve’s right, you thought to yourself. If I don’t do it, he’ll find someone else.

You quickly walked towards the bar and tapped Eddie’s shoulder, as you called his name, prompting him to turn to you. “Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie began to ask. “Did you want something else?”

You began to stammer, as you shifted your attention back and forth between him and Lottie, who was leaning towards the bar. “Cat got your tongue, pet?” She chuckled, revealing a Scottish accent.

You froze for a moment when Eddie softly asked, “Are you okay?”

“Looks like someone could do with a strong bevvy,” you heard Lottie say, finally snapping yourself out.

Before Eddie could say anything, you blurted, “Just need the restroom.”

Eddie went to grab your hand, but you swiftly stormed through the door, making him lean forward against the bar, feeling confused.

“You don’t think she thinks that we’re…?” Eddie began to ask Lottie, who responded with a grimacing expression, “God, I hope not. No offence, pet.”

Eddie chuckled, before replying, whilst raising his hands, “Hey! None taken.”

Lottie giggled, as she poured his drink while Eddie rummaging through his jacket pocket when he started cursing, “Shit, where is it?”

“Lost something?” Lottie asked, as she watched him search for something.

“I thought I had the envelope with me,” Eddie commented, as he stood up and rummaged through his pockets.

“No no no, this can’t be happening,” he started to groan. “Where the-?!”

“Okay, calm down,” Lottie interjected, as she placed her hand on his shoulder, before telling him to take deep breaths. After he did what she said, Lottie asked him, “Is there anywhere else it could be?”

Eddie tried to remember where the envelope was when he cursed, as he remembered where he left it, “Shit.”

He raced through the bar when Jeff stopped him, “Dude, where are you going?”

“I left the envelope back in the trailer,” Eddie panted, before telling the boys to keep you distracted until he came back.

Meanwhile in the restroom, you were splashing cold water on your face, trying to calm yourself down. “Just do it,” you told yourself. “Tell him that you’re ready to be with him.”

Am I though? You thought to yourself. Or am I just doing it because I don’t want him to be with Lottie? Am I really threatened by her closeness with him in a short period of time?

You groaned, as you leaned your head back, feeling confused.

Suddenly, the door swung open, making you jump.

Standing in front of the door was Lottie, who commented, “Someone’s a wee wet.”

She giggled, as you rapidly grabbed a paper towel and dried your face. You then threw it in the bin when Lottie bluntly told you, “You know, Eddie talks about you whenever he comes to the bar.”

You froze, worried about what he told her, as Lottie looked in the mirror, smoothing her hair. “He’s very keen on you.”

You remained silent when you heard her say, “So, whatever you think, about me and Eddie, it’s never gonna happen. Believe me, he’s not my type.”

You couldn’t help but feel relieved, knowing that Eddie’s relationship with Lottie was platonic and also, that he was keen on you. Suddenly, you heard her mumble, as she leaned against the sink, “Or any fella for that matter.”

Your ears perked up, hearing her confession.

Wait, is she…? You thought as you turned to face her, when she admitted, “There’s only a few people who know that about me. Not that I intended on telling a lot of people in this town. I mean, hearing how Eddie had been treated in the past by people in this town because of his taste in music and he plays his Dungeon Dragons…thingy, it made me wonder how people will be if they-“

“Don’t think that,” you interjected. You then sighed, before telling her. “It shouldn’t matter what other people think. It’s not their business.”

Lottie lightly chuckled, before telling you as she started walking towards the door, “That’s exactly what Eddie told me.” She then turned to you, continuing to speak. “I think you and him really need to talk.”

As she was about to leave when you called her name, prompting her to face you.

“Yes?” She spoke.

“Never say Dungeon Dragons thingy in front of Eddie,” you advised her. “He’ll get easily offended.”

Lottie chuckled, before telling you, “I know. Just seeing reaction makes me laugh.”

You giggled, as she started to walk out of the restroom.

After you watched her leave, you gathered up your thoughts, deciding to tell Eddie about what you wanted.

You rushed out of the restroom and looked over at the bar, searching for Eddie. Seeing that he was nowhere to be found, you assumed that he was outside, having a cigarette.

As you were walking out of the bar, Jeff asked you, “Hey where are you going?”

You turned to the boys, before replying, “Oh, I’m just going to find Eddie. I’ll be back.”

The boys tried to stop you, but you had already ran outside, only to find Gwen wrapping her arms around Eddie’s neck, giving him a sloppy kiss.

At that moment, you felt your heart break, like the first time you saw him kiss Chrissy. You stumbled backwards, before turning around to go back inside with tears in your eyes.

As soon as you stormed back to the bar, you heard Gareth asked, “Hey, is he still outside?”

From behind the bar, Lottie frowned, seeing you teary eyed. The boys tried getting your attention, when you turned to the booth and snatched your bag from the floor, before stomping back outside.

You stopped to find that Eddie was now on his own, as he was getting in his van, before you stomped towards it. Eddie was about to turn on the ignition when he heard the back doors open. Assuming that someone was robbing him, he got out of his van, and rushed to the back, as he shouted! “Hey! Whoever you are, you can’t come here and open-“

Eddie froze, as he saw you grabbing your bike, pulling it out. “Sweetheart?” He softly asked. “W-what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You growled, as you avoided eye contact with him. “I’m getting my bike.”

“Why?”

Eddie noticed that tears were rolling down your cheeks, as he asked, “What’s wrong?Has someone upset you?”

As you silently took out your helmet from your bag, and put it on, Eddie pleaded, “Please talk to me, sweetheart. This isn’t about Lottie, is it?”

You grabbed your bike and started walking away, when Eddie followed you, as he continued to speak, “Look, there’s nothing going on between us, we’re just friends-“

“What about Gwen then?!” You snapped, as you stopped and glared at Eddie.

“Gwen?” Eddie paused, realising that you meant the girl David liked before. “Wait, you mean David’s old crush, Gwen? I’ve never met her-“

“Bullshit, Eddie! I saw you kiss her just now!”

Realising that the woman who kissed him was Gwen, he clapped his hand over his mouth, before lowering it down, as he tried to explain, “Sweetheart, it’s not what you think-“

You shook your head, and started to walk away, as you interrupted, “You know what, Eddie? I don’t want to hear it. You said that you would wait-“

“I am,” Eddie responded, as he stopped you by standing in front of you, holding the handlebars. “I am waiting until you’re ready, like I promised. You gotta believe me.”

You shook your head once more, as you moved your bike away from Eddie, making him let go of the handlebars. As you got on your bike, Eddie tearfully pleaded, “Sweetheart, please…”

“Goodbye, Eddie,” you sniffled.

As you peddled away, Eddie squatted down and covered his face, as he burst into tears, unaware that the fallout was witnessed by the rest of the band and Lottie, as well as Gwen’s friend.

All through the night, Eddie did nothing but sat at the bar, plying himself with leftover alcoholic drinks. But it wasn’t enough to stop the heartbreak after you left. He wished that he went after you, to explain what happened with and Gwen, but it was too late. The boys tried to stop him from drinking himself to death, but he refused to stop. “What’s the point?” Eddie slurred. “She’ll never speak to me again. I’ve screwed up my chance to be with her.”

Suddenly, Lottie huffed, as she snatched the bottle from him.

“Hey!” He continued to slur, as he leaned over to grab it back when he nearly fell off his stool. Luckily, Jeff and Grant caught him in time.

After they stood him up, he tried to grab the bottle when Lottie scolded him, “You’ve had enough, mister.”

“What’s going on?” A male voice asked. Eddie turned to find a worried Steve standing behind him. “Eddie, man…what’s wrong?” Steve asked, before asking where you were.

Suddenly, Eddie started sobbing, as he leaned towards the bar and covering his face with his crossed arms.

Steve turned to the boys and asked them what happened.

Grant explained that you went to find Eddie and caught him and Gwen kissing. Steve was surprised to hear that his former date kissed one of his friends.

Suddenly, Eddie muffled something.

“What?” Steve asked, when Eddie lifted his head and slurred, “I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. I told her that I wasn’t interested in her, and that I liked…”

Eddie continued to sob when Lottie placed her hand on his shoulder, and told him, “I think you need to go home. Sleep it off.”

“She’s right,” Gareth told him. “We have a flight tomorrow-“

“I’m not going!” Eddie interjected, whilst shaking his head. “We won’t pass the audition! What’s the point?”

Eddie rested his head on his arms, while everyone exchanged glances, wondering what to do.

After a short discussion, Lottie and Steve agreed that she and Grant would take Eddie home, while Steve took the other guys home.

On the ride back to the trailer park, Lottie was keeping an eye on Eddie, while Grant drove.

Once they had arrived at Forest Hills, both Lottie and Grant got out and carried Eddie back to the trailer.

“Jesus, how can someone so skinny be so heavy?” Lottie complained, as they continued to carry Eddie to the trailer when Grant noticed a familiar bike leaning against the trailer. It can’t be, can it? He thought to himself.

While Eddie rambled, Grant told Lottie to open the door.

“Shouldn’t he have a key on him?” Lottie asked.

“I don’t think he needs it,” Grant replied.

As soon as a confused Lottie opened the door, Grant’s suspicions were confirmed.

There you were, sitting on the couch, eyes puffy from crying earlier.

Eddie looked up, as he slurred your name.

You gazed at him with concern, as you sat silently.

You were about to open your mouth to speak when Eddie stumbled away from Lottie and Grant, and landed on his knees in front of you, as he muttered your name.

“You have to bel-” Eddie slurred when he suddenly starting vomiting in front of you, making Grant and Lottie groan.

Realising that he puked on your shoes, he profusely apologised as you sympathetically gazed at him.

“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom,” Grant told him, as he lifted Eddie up to his feet, and started taking him into bathroom, when Eddie vomited near the back door. Lottie turned to you, watching you take your vomit covered shoes off, as she asked you, “So…why did you come here?”

While Grant was keeping Eddie company in the bathroom, you and Lottie were outside, cleaning vomit off your shoes. You began to explain to her that on the way back home, you encountered Gwen and her friend…

You were peddling through town, as you continued to sob when you stopped and got off your bike, before sitting down on the nearest bench.

You continued to sob when you heard a vehicle parked near you, before the passenger back door opened. You looked up, seeing Gwen, who had started vomiting from a car.

Suddenly, you heard a female voice say, “Sorry about her.”

You shifted your attention to her friend, who was sitting in the front passenger seat with an older man, whom you assumed were either girls’ father, in the driver’s seat.

“I told her not to drink so much,” she told you.

“Wish I never kissed that guy,” you heard Gwen slur. “All I wanted was weed from him.”

You furrowed your brow, as you muttered, “What?”

Suddenly, her friend admitted, “It was my fault, I should’ve kept an eye on her.”

You stared at her with confusion when her friend explained that while she was calling her dad to pick them up, Gwen went up to Eddie and drunkenly flirted with him, just to score some weed, but Eddie refused her advances. She also mentioned that when Gwen kissed him, he scolded her, telling her that he wasn’t dealing anymore and he liked someone else.

“I’m guessing that someone else was you,” she said. After hearing her side of the story, you deeply sighed, feeling guilty for not letting Eddie explain himself.

Before you could respond, Gwen groaned, “He wasn’t even hot anyway.”

As Gwen had shut the back door, you were about to say something when her friend lowly told you, “Ignore her.”

Suddenly, the dad told the girl, “Michelle, we should get Gwen home.”

He then turned to you, and asked you, “Do you want a ride? I’ve got a bike rack on my car if you want to use it.”

You thanked him, before deciding where to go. You thought about going home, but you couldn’t face your parents’ questions. Instead, you asked him to take you to the trailer park…

“That’s why I came here, so I could hear it from Eddie,” you explained to Lottie. “But then of course…”

Lottie knew what you meant. “He started having leftover booze after you left,” she replied. “The lads and I tried to stop him from drinking, but he just wouldn’t stop.”

You silently cleaned your shoes, as you both heard Eddie vomit, and Grant comforting him. Lottie looked over at the door, before shifting her attention to you, when you suddenly quietly told her, “Listen, Lottie. About earlier, I’m sorry if I made you feel that you had to…come out to me like that. I guess I was little…“

“Jealous?” Lottie asked.

You slowly nodded, before mumbling, “I know, it’s stupid…and I shouldn’t have-“

Suddenly, she had let out a little chuckle whilst shaking her head, “No need to apologise. It’s okay. Besides, I figured that Robin was also into girls, especially the way that Steve fella mentioned a girl named Vickie to her, and I figured that you and the others knew too. So, I trust you guys.”

You were silent for a moment, before asking, “And does Eddie know that…?”

“Oh aye, he figured it out after he caught me staring at that Nancy girl.”

You giggled, as Lottie retorted, “What? I thought she was hot. Well, both girls are.”

“Should I be offended that you don’t think I am?” You bantered.

Lottie laughed, before telling you, “Of course you are, but I wouldn’t steal a friend’s woman.”

You both laughed, as you continued to scrub your shoes, when Grant came outside and told you, “Hey, Eddie’s stopped puking, I’m gonna try and get him to sleep. He’s gonna have one hell of a headache in the morning.”

You nodded, as Grant went back inside and took Eddie to his room.

Lottie turned to you and asked, “So, when do you need to get home?”

You shook your head, before telling her, “I told my parents that I’m staying. Besides…” Suddenly, you took out an envelope with your name on it, and opened it, revealing a couple of plane tickets and your passport.

Lottie gaped, as you were about to speak when you both heard Grant say, “That’s why he went to his van earlier. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

You both looked up at him, as you told him, “I guess that explains why my suitcase was in his room.”

Grant sighed, before telling you, “Eddie felt guilty for not telling you about the audition sooner. So…he called Charlie a few weeks ago and asked if we could bring you along.”

You and Lottie gaped, as he continued to speak, “And…he may have exaggerated a little bit, saying that you were-“

“He didn’t tell him that I was his girlfriend, did he?” You interjected.

“Actually, he said that you were our second drummer.”

“Oh,” you exclaimed.

“Why did he do that?” Lottie asked.

“Well, Eddie didn’t think that he would say yes if he said that you were his girlfriend,” he told you, as he sat on the chair near you and Lottie. “He figured it would’ve been unprofessional. Besides, it wasn’t a lie. You did play.”

“Yeah, once,” you retorted.

“Still, you played. Besides, he still haven’t had a chance to perform with you. His words.”

You looked over to Eddie’s window silently, thinking about going, but then you remembered about your family and colleagues.

You shook your head, before telling him, “I don’t know. It’s too short notice. I mean, how am I gonna tell-“

“It’s okay, your folks know. And Harrington.”

You gaped, as Grant explained. “He asked if it was okay, and as long as you wanted to, it was fine with them. Mary and Carver even helped getting some of your stuff and your passport. She figured that you might say yes.”

“Wow,” Lottie exclaimed. “That guy really thought ahead.”

You were astonished that, not only everyone knew about the surprise, but they also helped arrange it for you. You sat silently, as you thought about what to do next.

Eddie woke up the next morning to the sound of the toilet flushing, with a bad headache and a horrible taste in his mouth. He began to groan, as he rubbed his eyes.

As he sat up, he looked at the eyesore in front of him. His suitcase, only his suitcase. He remembered that you came over, sadly sighing as he noticed that your suitcase was gone, assuming that you took it when you went home. The real kicker was seeing the envelope on his bedside table.

He didn’t bother checking the contents inside. He figured that you saw it and freaked out, deciding not to go with him, taking your passport back.

He sniffled, trying to hold back the tears, as he got out of bed, before Wayne would scold him for not getting up.

As he ambled out of his bedroom, he saw Wayne grab the van key. As soon as Wayne looked up at him, Eddie was sure that he was going to lecture him about last night, if any of the neighbours grassed him up for coming home drunk. Instead, Wayne greeted him, before telling him, “I’m gonna pick the boys up now. So, make sure that you’re ready to go by the time I get back, okay?”

Eddie silently nodded, trying to hold back the tears. After Wayne left, he squatted down and broke down in tears, as your last word to him, before you walked away replayed in his mind.

All through the journey to the airport, Eddie sat in the front passenger seat in silence, while the boys were chatting in the back.

After finally reaching the airport, the boys got out their luggage of the van. Eddie grabbed his suitcase, before hugging Wayne goodbye.

Suddenly, Wayne told his nephew, “I know that you wanted her to come. But you two can talk after you come back.”

“I doubt she will talk to me,” Eddie tearfully mumbled against Wayne’s shoulder. “I screwed up.”

Wayne moved back and wiped the tears away from his nephew’s face, before wishing him luck.

After checking in with the airline, the boys went through security, and waited at the gate for the plane to board.

The boys finally went through the gate, after a couple of hours of delays, and boarded onto the plane.

As the rest of the boys found their seats, Eddie found his, not far from them, and took out his campaign book, placing it in his seat, before putting his hand luggage inside the overhead compartment. He then picked up his book before sitting down.

He huffed, as he opened it, trying to pick up from what he had written. However, he couldn’t focus on it, partly because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and what to say if he saw you again.

“Nervous about the flight?” He heard a feminine voice next to him ask.

He exhaled, before replying to the person beside him, “Not just that.”

“Missing family already?”

Eddie sighed, whilst shaking his head before responding, “I…wanted to surprise someone with this trip, but I screwed up.”

There was a short silence between him and the fellow passenger, before he heard the question, “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

He sighed once more, before explaining, “I had planned to surprise this girl last night with the plane tickets, but I was stupid. I forgot them.”

He then mentioned about Gwen kissing him, and the repercussions of it, resulting in him trying to explain to you what happened, only for you to leave.

“I guess she found out about the tickets, and freaked out,” Eddie softly said. “I mean, her suitcase was gone and the envelope was at my place, so…”

Eddie paused, as he turned to find the person next to him, holding Brave New World close to the passenger’s face.

Eddie furrowed his brow, as he recognised the tattered cover with a familiar bat doodled on the corner of it.

It can’t be, can it? Eddie thought, before he mumbled your name. The book was lowered down to the table, revealing your face.

A flabbergasted Eddie gazed at you, as you greeted him, before he stammered, “B-but, how-?”

He quickly turned to his not-so-shocked bandmates, who waved at you, before shifting his attention back to you, as you smiled at him.

“I don’t understand,” Eddie softly said. “I thought you-“

“Freaked out about the tickets and left?” You asked.

He nodded, before you explained to him about what Michelle said about his kiss with Gwen, and that Grant told you the tickets were supposed to be a surprise for you.

“I stayed overnight while Tom took Grant and Lottie home. My dad picked me up early this morning and took me to the airport after Wayne got back.”

“And did he know…?”

“Mrs Wicks snitched on you, as soon as he arrived home, but I explained what happened.”

“I guess that explains why he didn’t lecture me this morning.”

You gave him a small smile, before asking him, “How’s your hangover?”

“A little better. I’m sorry for puking on your shoes,” he replied, causing you to roll your eyes, as you giggled.

“It’s okay. They’re clean now, with help from Lottie.”

Suddenly, the pilot started making an announcement over a tannoy, in regards to the plane taking off shortly.

After everyone had put on their seatbelts, you turned to Eddie, after he called your name, gaining your attention.

“Yes, Eddie?” You asked.

“About Lottie…you should know, I’m not attracted to her-“

“I know,” you interjected. “She told me that you were keen on me. And she also made it abundantly clear that you weren’t her type.”

Eddie lightly chuckled, before asking you, “So…are we…okay?”

You smiled, as you took his hand into yours, before telling him, “Yeah, we are.”

Eddie smiled back, before lifting your hand and kissed the back of it.

As you lowered it back down, you began to confess, “Eddie, after I thought about going with you guys, I had thought about…us.”

Eddie gulped, nervous about what you were going to say, as you exhaled, before telling him, “I do…want to be with you, and I thought I was ready, but…I think that I still need more time. I know that Steve said I should get with you before someone else takes you-“

“Sweetheart.”

You stopped talking, as Eddie told you, “It’s okay, I can wait. And don’t listen to Harrington…I haven’t got my eye on anyone else right now, so…we can take it slow, whenever you’re ready.”

“Really?”

Eddie nodded, before replying, “Really.”

You smiled as you rested your head on his shoulder, waiting for the plane to take off.

Neither of you weren’t sure what the future held for you both, but Eddie had hope that one day, you would be ready to be his.

#stranger things au #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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