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#I drew this drew when I should’ve been asleep
bluebirbbs · 3 months
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Sometimes ya just need a hug from your best friend ✨🍕🤼‍♂️
I live for THEM
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Reign down on me - Part 7
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Pairing: Ghost x Hybrid!reader (eventual poly!141)
No use of y/n or mention of gender/race
Summary: Reader is a wolf hybrid in a world that treats them like second class citizens, given a horrible start in life after being thrown into the military with no preparation. After years of struggle, they're finally taken away from their base by Ghost, now a permanent member of taskforce 141 reader struggles to come to terms with the fact that perhaps there's a life there for them - if only they reach out and accept it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, Angst, abuse mentions, self doubt, violent scenes
Masterlist here
-🐺-
When you opened your eyes the world was drowned in darkness and you were in an unfamiliar room, sapping warmth from an oversized lump in the sheets. At first you froze like a statue, flicking your eyes around to see if you could make anything out. It was clear enough that you weren’t in your own bed, but even your advanced eyes couldn’t make a single thing out for the lack of any light. 
The lump groaned and shifted, sprawling out like a tiger skin rug before retracting again. A heavy weight draped itself round your mid section, an arm you realised, that caused you to curse and pant for inside it’s unyielding hold. Ghost. Who else had arms the size of iron girders? 
It should’ve been obvious to you, but your mind had been too foggy in the aftermath of your unexpected sleep. Had you taken a second to scent the air, you would’ve been greeted with his relaxing scent, but instead you’d fumbled around like a bear coming out of hibernation. At that realisation you scrunched your eyes closed and then opened them again, still feebly trying to see through the oppressive black of the room. It had to be Ghost’s room that you were in, the place was practically painted with his citrusy scent, with undertones of sage ever present and invading.
“Y’alright, Pup?” a groggy voice called out. 
It sounded as if a pile of rocks had shifted from right next to you. Your ears twitched back at the sound and all at once you relaxed in his loosened grip, turning around to face him. Your noses were inches from touching. Not that you could see his, but you could feel the steady streams of his breaths trickling out from his sleepwear body.
“Um…yeah” you whispered, unsure of how to answer. “Why’d you take me to your bed?” 
He yawned and uncurled his arm from your body, instead using his hand to trace little patterns up your arms. 
“You seemed upset when I left you in yours. Only calmed down and stopped whinin’ when I let you curl up here,” he explained, sounding as if he was moments from drifting off again. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” you said hastily. 
You couldn’t believe it! Why would you have whined at being left to sleep alone? Why would you stop when you got to sleep in Ghost’s bed? The revelations had you frowning and feeling markedly warmer than you already were. Your mind whirred at the idea that Ghost had witnessed you mewling like a little puppy at having to sleep in your own bed. 
“I know. I didn’t want you having bad dreams after what happened yesterday, so I thought it was for the best,” he said simply, as if what he’d done was completely normal. 
“I can handle those,” you said weakly. 
“You don’t have to.”
You gulped down a thick lump in your throat and let the silence settle over you both. Though the room wasn’t completely quiet of course. Ghost’s steady breathing and the sound of your own pounding heart rattled around in your ears. Though your chest calmed its frenzy when Ghost drew you close again, urging you to burrow your head under his chin and into the soft cotton of his worn shirt. 
The two of you stayed silent for a time after though neither of you fell asleep. Instead the time was spent mulling through your sluggish thoughts, wondering distantly if you should be trying to leave. 
“I think you should reconsider your nesting situation,” Ghost said suddenly, breaking the silence. 
“What?”
“You have a lot of bad dreams most nights. You were peaceful last night though,” he explained softly.
“Do they wake you up?” you asked, brows knitting together in worry. 
You’d woken plenty of times before in your old barracks from others' bad dreams and in turn woken the others with your own. It wasn’t lost on you how annoying it was to try to get to sleep after being jolted awake and kicked into an adrenaline rush, lying there in the grey light of almost dawn with a pounding heart and the knowledge that you’d have to get to work again soon. 
“Nah, told you before - I’m not a good sleeper. If I knew there was something that helped though I’d make sure I got to sleep properly every night.”
You huffed out an embarrassed laugh and shook your head, feeling his stubbly chin scratch the top of your head. It was only then that it occurred to you that he was maskless again. You wondered if that meant he was getting more comfortable around you, just as you were him.
“It was probably just a fluke,” you murmured, trying to hide your interest. “I’m not gonna hoard your clothes like some feral squirrel, Ghost.” 
He laughed at that, the bassy tones reverberating through his wide chest and against your warming skin. 
“It’s not hoarding and it doesn’t have to be my clothes. I can give you my duvet or I could get you a new blanket and sleep with it for a bit if you like, if that would make it feel more natural.”
“It’s not natural, its weird,” you huffed. 
“You’re a hybrid, S’not weird,” he affirmed, stroking circled down your back. “It’s normal for you to need comforting scents and materials. My old partner used to keep a nest, we had an arrangement and it was fine.”
At that your ears flicked in curiosity. He’d never mentioned this ‘old partner’ before. All at once your mind flooded with questions and as it worked hard to process them all, you could barely hold onto one tightly enough to ask it. 
“You had a hybrid before me?” you eventually said, voice small and unsteady. 
Ghost paused. It was if he’d only just realised what he’d just said. 
“Another wolf,” he confirmed, throat swelling and tense. “We were paired up after I passed my handler qualification. It was a long time ago - feels like a lifetime really. Spent four years together, he used to cuddle up with me just like this in my stupid little barracks bunk when he had rough nights.”
The elephant in the room stared down at you from on high. There was no avoiding it’s almost tangible bulk. So you asked the question that wanted to leap off the tip of your tongue. 
“What happened to him?”
Ghost was ready for that, answering quickly. Though it didn’t sound like it hurt him any less to say it when it was spoken through gritted teeth.  
“Killed in action.”
“Oh…I’m- I’m sorry.”
Was that the right thing to say? When other hybrids you’d worked with had died, there usually weren’t many mourners if any, though that was because you were under the care of Branhaven. You’d only met a few hybrids before that were in the care of handlers and it had been obvious that you’d always been intrinsically different from them, that they had far more value to their teams than you ever did as an unclaimed hybrid.
“Roach was a good lad,” Ghost said eventually. “He taught me alot in our time together, made me sharper with all his…’quirks’. Used to steal anything of mine that he could get his grubby little mitts on and drag it off to his bed, so to be honest it was a bit of a shock when I realised you weren’t going to be the same.”
Ghost laughed a little despite the sadness that tinged his careful words. 
“With a name like Roach, I can only imagine what other quirks he had,” you smiled. 
“Oh that one loved to get himself into trouble. I still remember the first time we went out with Price - very long time ago. Roach thought it’d be funny to steal his hat, this is before he started wearing the boonie mind you, at that point it was this old beanie that absolutely reeked of cigars. Found that out because while Price was ranting about having cold ears, I was asleep on top of it, before I got woken up by his bitching anyway. I took it out from under me when I woke up, confused as fuck as to why it was there, and then Price saw it and was going on and on about how childish it was to take it, and then I started arguing back and saying I wouldn’t do something so bloody stupid. All the while Roach was giggling to himself in the corner, the little shit.”
“He wasn’t scared of what Price would do?” You asked incredulously, trying to put yourself in the shoes of a hybrid that didn’t know the intimidating Captain half as well as you did. 
“Roach wasn’t scared of a damn thing, beyond whatever shit he used to dream about anyway. It’s the reason he got called Roach in the first place, his real name was Gary. He used to run headfirst into danger and come out fine almost every time, that’s what they told me when they handed him off to me- ‘that wolf’s like a bug you can’t squash’...Course his luck ran out eventually. We got captured by an enemy group in Mexico and the bastards didn’t see the worth in keeping a hybrid around. Said they only needed me.”
“That’s awful.”
Another silence ensued. It made sense that Ghost had had a hybrid before you, he’d had a long career and he was so knowledgeable when it came to training with you that it made sense that he’d had plenty of first hand experience. Though it made your heart ache to think that he mourned for someone that was ripped away from him so long ago. The way he told those stories, you could hear the emotion etched in every word.
“Didn’t think I’d take on another hybrid on after him,” Ghost sighed, making you tilt your head in question, “but Price told me about you and kept badgering on about me being the only one in the team that was qualified to take you, kept saying that you didn’t deserve to rot away back at your home base and that you deserved a place here. I figured I owed it to him to at least go and check you out and well, I knew you had to be mine the minute I saw ya.”
“You saw a soggy mutt that was getting punished in an outdoor kennel and instantly had that epiphany?” You snorted. 
“A soggy mutt that didn’t deserve to be there,” he corrected. “There was no way for me to have saved Roach while I was tied up and concussed to all hell, I made peace with that a long time ago. I knew that I was able to save you though; doing anything other than untying you and walking out of that base with the angry ball of fur in my arms felt like sacrilege.”
“Angry ball of fur,” you repeated with a tut, rolling your eyes so far back they crept into your inflection.
“You tried to bite me at least twice and you called me Mr.Bonejangles in the car. Angry ball of fur was about right, you little sod! Sitting there all wrapped up in your towel with your grumpy face and hair poking out every which way,” Ghost laughed. “I’m just lucky you calmed down after a good rest. Thought I was gonna have to take to permanently being in handling gloves after that first night.”
“I didn’t try to bite you that much.”
“You did. You were like a hungry crocodile. You had my life flashing before my eyes that day, was praying I’d get to keep all my fingers and toes.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic!” 
Ghost’s laugh echoed around the room, hitting off of unseen walls somewhere inside the shadows. As much as you hated to think about a time before you knew Ghost, and actively tried to fight him, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you began to see that day through his eyes. You could only imagine what it must’ve been like to have met you then, knowing about your sketchy disciplinary file and admittedly bad track record for biting and scratching, Ghost couldn’t have had any clue what he was in for. In that moment you couldn’t have felt luckier, pressed into Ghost’s chest and getting to relax against him in his nice warm bed, when you could’ve been left to rot in those kennels.
Moments later, just as you were both settling back into the furrow of the mattress and had adjusted sheets to your liking, a high pitched alarm tone blared out and sent you both groaning. Ghost’s phone lit up from his side, finally shedding a little light into the room. From there you could see his bed was pressed up into the wall, as usual you’d assumed you’d made sure to be closest to the exit - even in your drowsy state. You still couldn’t make out much of the structure of the place. 
“Suppose we better get up then,” Ghost groaned. “C’mon then.”
“I can’t see a thing in here, you’re gonna have to turn a light on or something,” you yawned, stretching out and readying yourself to start the day.  
It was then that he saw fit to snatch the corner of his black out curtains and yank them back, sending you flying under the covers just to save your eyes. The duvet provided you shelter from the cold blue light and from under their safety you actively felt your pupils slowly unshrink from the tiny pinpoints they’d been forced to become. 
“Why would you do that?” You groaned. 
“Reckoned you needed a bit of a wake up,” Ghost shrugged, lifting the cover up so he could meet your eyes. 
As annoyed as you were you were distracted from your grumpiness momentarily by his face. His smug smile was in full view, lips slanting to one side and pulling his scars taught. In the full light of the morning he looked like a weathered statue, bright highlights and harsh shadow carving out his sharp jaw like chiselled stone. You tilted your head at him and in turn he tilted his back in the opposite direction. 
“See somethin’ on my face?” He joked, teeth flashing into view. 
You shook your head and pursed your lips. A little heat rose to your cheeks. 
“Just planning out the perfect place to bite you,” you lied.
“That so?” He asked, a sandy blonde eyebrow raising. “Sounds like I’m just gonna have to get you first then.”
At that he pinched your side and sent you yipping and scrabbling off the bed. Though that wasn’t enough to escape him. He gave chase, leaping off of the mattress, the bed groaning at the change in weight and thumped on the floor. The air blew through the fur in your ears, you ran that fast. Unthinkingly running to your own room before considering anywhere else. 
With that you dove under your bed, dragging your sheets down to cover the space and yanking Simon in just as he’d fallen off the top. Ghost yanked your door open straight after, his bare feet slapping into the wood and taking careful steps forward. He sighed loudly when he reached the edge of your bed and stopped, feet stopping at your chest. 
“I’d like to think you’ve been trained to evade enemies better than this, Pup,” he drawled.��
You rolled your eyes, full well knowing you wouldn’t go running and hiding like that against someone you had full authority to kill. 
Rather than let him crouch down and drag you out, you threw Simon up at him as a distraction and skittered out around him. In a matter of seconds you managed to gather yourself into a crouch and sprang up at his back, wrapping your arms round his shoulders and legs round his middle. From there you gently grazed your teeth against his neck in a fake bite and growled, announcing your victory to the otherwise empty room. 
“Soap’s right, you’re a menace,” he laughed, untangling you from around him and bending backwards so he could set you gently back down on the floor. 
“You brought work into it,” you huffed, folding your arms indignantly.
“Yeah yeah, cheap shot throwing your teammate at the hostile. Poor little fella getting sacrificed like that,” he said, holding out the puppy stuffed toy with a fake grimace. 
“Simon woulda shaken it off, I had every faith in him,” you shrugged, setting him down on the bed carefully so that he rested against the pillows. 
“Simon?” Ghost repeated, choking out a strangled sound that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a guffaw. “You named it Simon?”
“Yeah, after the hybrid from my books,” you said, nodding toward the graphic novels that were stacked by your bedside. “Why's that so funny?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as a few different emotions crossed Ghost’s eyes. He chewed on his lip a second, eyes going wide and zeroing in on your sleeping buddy until he shook himself out of it. 
“Nothing,” he smiled, clearing the awkward edge in his throat. “Good name that. Strong choice. Little Simon.”
“I think it suits him.”
“Yeah…Anyway, we need to get ready and get in for work. I’ve got a bit of a stacked day today, so we need to get you sorted. Gaz and Soap offered to take you through your exercises this afternoon and Price is gonna let you sit in his office till I can come get you in the evenin’. Pack your books so you’ve got something to occupy yourself with tonight, Cap’s not very chatty right now. Oh and remember, if you want anything for your bed just let me know, ok?” 
-🐺- 
Stacked day indeed. Ghost made you run laps through the assault course he’d had set up for you and just before he left, he’d made you practise some bite work with him. The irony wasn’t lost on you after your conversation that morning. He’d donned his leather gloves and neck protector and brought out a fake gun, making you attack him over and over so that you could practise non lethal takedowns.
As good as you were at the exercise, that didn’t stop Ghost from firing a couple foam bullets at you from time to time when you got too out of control, reminding you teresley that you weren’t supposed to be ripping detainees to pieces. As your wilder side took over during your work, you’d bark out raspy growls at him for the cheap shots, knowing full well he shouldn't be able to fire after you’d just decimated his fake arm. However the sensible part of your mind would echo out that it was far better than getting smacked with the plastic batons that your old trainers would carry to discourage your savagery.
“Well well well, what kinda training do you call this?”
Your head turned just as you’d brought Ghost down to the floor and you ceased your growling, tilting your head when your gaze landed on Soap. Gaz joined him at the side of the field moments later, just coming off of a phone call to see you still on top of Ghost. 
“Oh yeah, we’re just having a bit of fun, Johnny. You know how much I love being mauled” Ghost grunted, tapping your thigh in short order. “You can get up now, Pup. Reckon you got me.”
You looked back down at Ghost and let out an embarrassed huff of air before rolling off him and standing up, dusting your dirty fatigues off. Some of the soft dirt smeared down them, leaving what would surely become a rough crust in its wake.
“Can’t believe you get to play with nerf guns and call it work,” Soap laughed, “That or the fact that you took the time to paint that thing black just so that it’d match your gear.”
“Well you’re welcome to take over if you think its so fun,” Ghost grinned, eyes cresting below his mask.
He unbuckled his thick leather gloves and threw them onto the grass at Soap’s feet, then tore the velcro off of his neck protector with a loud scratchy rip. Soap then looked back at you and visibility stiffened up, considering Ghost’s offer like it might be his death sentence. Gaz shoved him and laughed, going instead to approach Ghost and reach out for his gun. 
“Look at this,” he whistled, turning it over and opening up the ammo compartment. “What is this? A ten round? You even got the grey bullets with the red tips. Very nice hardware, Sir.”
“Well it is the Elite Ranger PD-5 Blaster, Garrick. Fine piece of kit, so it is,” Ghost quipped. “Maybe one day you’ll earn your own one.”
“Well now I know what I’m asking Santa for,” Gaz smirked. “So, we taking over here?”
You looked back at Soap again who was eagerly looking at Ghost to find out the answer to that question. Ghost looked back at him and winked, a gesture you only caught because you knew to look out for their antics now. 
“Nah,” Ghost finally answered, roughly raking his hands over your ears. “We made good progress today, I reckon we set Pup on anyone we need back alive, we’ve got a great chance of bringing at least seventy percent of the enemy still intact now.”
“Hey!” you growled. “I can bring people in just fine.”
“Oh sure, you can bring em’ in - in separate pieces of course - but you’ll get the job done,” he drawled, soon producing strangled notes as if he was choking. “‘Sorry sir, I would’ve given you the information but that damn wolf got my tongue.’”
Ghost laughed the way he always did when he was being cheeky, the rasping cackle crooning from his throat like a bear scratching up a tree. You had half a mind to do some scratching yourself, but instead you snatched the nerf gun from Gaz and shot Ghost in the chest a couple times. All of you silently watched as the foam bullets arced into his torso only to bounce off pathetically into the well trodden grass. 
You knew then that you should’ve aimed for his forehead like he’d done to you. 
“Friendly fire, is it?” Ghost questioned.
“Got you back,” you replied, tilting your chin in the air in defiance. 
He tutted at you and mussed up your hair once again, rubbing his hands over your head with enough force to almost knock you back.
“I’ll remember that next time we train together,” he said menacingly, jabbing your side just as he’d done that morning. 
You yelped and rubbed the tender spot, trying not to give into the laughter of the ticklish spot. 
“For now though, you two have the absolute pleasure of learning hybrid hand signals,” Ghost said, directing his attentions toward Gaz and Soap. “Sad that I have to miss such a fun exercise, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty of giggles without me. I booked out building three and left you a handler’s manual open on the page there. I had some corporals set up a basic simulation for you, so you should be good to go once you get in. Anything you’re confused on, Pup should be able to explain.” 
At that you groaned, shoulders slumping with the anticipation of the boring afternoon ahead. Back at Branhaven when they were training up new batches of handlers, you all had to take turns helping them through their coursework and modules - one of which being the hand signal module. That often meant long boring days being slowly and dramatically led around short courses and wildly gestured at until the new recruits were able to get the motions correct. 
“You couldn’t have just let me do more biting?” you sighed.
Ghost chuckled and picked up the rucksack of things he’d set off to the side.
“What? And terrify this one half to death in the process? I don’t think so,” Ghost said, pinching Soap’s cheek playfully. “You’ll survive one slow afternoon. I’ll even sweeten the deal, you keep the nerf gun and if they get something wrong you have my permission to shoot them.”
Soap rubbed at his cheek with a glare and slapped Ghost’s arm away soon after. His blue eyes were all storms and indignation and his jaw was clenched tight as a vice. Meanwhile you were doing everything you could not to yip with obvious delight, settling instead for a slow tail wag. 
“You don’t get to authorise that,” Soap said, rolling his eyes.
“What rank am I again?”
“That doesn-”
“It does actually. Have a good day, Sergeant,” Ghost interrupted, softly pretending to punch Soap’s shoulder. “Do me proud!”
Gaz laughed from next to you and waved Ghost off as he made his escape, narrowly avoiding getting hit by one of the leather mitts he’d set down earlier. Soap didn’t give chase after the failed throw though, instead he just stood grumbling to himself and eventually gathered the gear together and slung it into the holdall that Ghost had neglected to take with him. Once the bag dangled from his shoulder, he turned to you and Gaz and flung his head in the direction of the training buildings. 
“So what’s this about hand signals? We gonna have to make you sit and fetch?” Soap asked. 
“You tell me to go fetch and we’re gonna have problems,” you said, pumping the nerf gun’s ammo chamber for emphasis. 
“Christ in heaven,” Soap muttered, heaving himself off across the field. “The things I put up with.”
-🐺- 
The room was heavy with thick silence as you traversed your way around it. You might as well have been glued to Gaz’s side, one of the few sounds that were allowed to permeate the quiet was Gaz’s breathing and the metallic ting of the ancient filament lights. Every second that you walked, you obsessively watched Gaz’s hands, fixing your eyes on them as if they might hold untold treasures.
This was it, the last run through. Gaz paused at the same doorway you’d had to wait outside at least a dozen times already, and quickly held up his fist for ‘halt’. It helped that it was just the same as the standard hand signals that he’d been taught already. From there he pointed two fingers to his side and signalled for halt again. You nodded and moved next to him, looking from his hands to his eyes in quick succession while you waited for further instruction. 
From there he cupped his hands by his ear and pointed at you. You twitched your ears, adjusting yourself so that you could listen out for any tell tale sounds of Soap skulking around from inside. Though there was nothing beyond the annoying skittering of the old ticking clock inside the fake office, so to confirm the silence you shook your head. Gaz then held his finger to the side of his nose and pointed at you, but you held your palm up and waved your other hand around it. Unclear. Smell was little use when you’d all run the training course together so many times, everything stank of the two men at that point. 
Gaz nodded and thought for a second. Time might as well have been a sound, the continuous buzz of the lights or the shaking hands of the clock behind the door, your senses felt like they were blending into a big mush. You were glad when Gaz finally patted his back and held out his palm and then a single finger, signalling to walk back to back with him and watch his six. 
You nodded again and did as asked, making quick work of slinking through the door as quietly as possible and advancing down the corridor beyond. Gaz looked right and left, checking through the first office room on the right quickly and efficiently and kept things moving down the hallway, readying to advance to the next room at the end of the hallway. This was it, there was only one place Soap could be now, you thought. 
However, just as Gaz was heading down the corridor, you could’ve sworn you heard a noise. A faint almost wooden gasp, but it was something nonetheless. You grabbed Gaz’s arm and forced him to a stop, holding your hand to your ear so that he knew you heard something. He narrowed his eyes, honey irises appearing chestnut from under his shadowy gaze. After another few seconds you heard the sound of something making contact with the floor, hell you could've sworn you felt the vibrations of it at that point.
You looked up at Gaz with wild eyes and motioned your head down the hallway from the office that Gaz had assumed was safe. It wasn’t like there was much to sweep that you hadn’t already looked through on all your other runs, so he hadn’t been sloppy to dismiss the empty space. There was just a single desk with an exposed underside, the wall clock and a fake sink set up. The sink had a cupboard but it also had a slew of fake piping that made it impossible to squeeze inside. Or rather it should’ve. 
As soon as you crept back down the hallway, you both stumbled onto Soap emerging from the cupboard like a spider creeping from a crack. He was all arms and legs as he tried to slyly remove himself from the tiny space and before he was able to see you and Gaz, Gaz blasted him with the nerf gun and you ran toward him, ensuring you were out of firing range and jumped up in front of him. Pieces of loose plastic piping scattered from all around the bottom cupboard, and he just about exploded from his skin when you got your face up close to his.
“Steamin Jesus! How’d you know I was in here?” 
“We didn’t, I heard the cupboard opening though,” you explained, wagging your tail all the while. 
Soap sighed and leaned back into the cupboard clutching his hand over his heart for a moment before sitting back up. 
“I suppose I should be happy you’re on our team with those big satellites, fuzzy lugs,” Soap sighed. 
“Hey!” You whined, flattening your ears. “They’re not big satellites.”
“Well not when you put them back like that,” Soap said, a sly smile piercing through his eyes before it reached his lips. 
“Better big fluffy ears than big fluffy hair,” you huffed. 
“Oooh,” Gaz smirked, “Get ‘im.”
“You canny insult the hawk,” Soap sniffed, running a hand through his messy locks. “Nothing you say will convince me this isn’t stunnin’.”
You rolled your eyes and sat back from Soap, about to let him get up when Gaz stopped you both. He held out his hand and demanded you wait a minute, causing you and Soap to turn to one another and frown until all became clear. 
“Gotta get a good photo of our quarry, Pup. All the best hunters get their trophy photo,” Gaz explained, while holding his phone up and adjusting the angle.
Gaz adjusted his pose, tilting his nerf gun so that it crossed his chin and partially obscured his faux serious expression, meanwhile Soap sat back amongst the loose piping and accepted his fate, holding his fingers to his forehead in a fake gun gesture as if he were shooting himself. You weren’t sure what to do. No one ever asked you to be in pictures that weren’t mandated for the government website, so you didn’t know how to pose. 
At the last minute you tilted your head and pulled out a cheeky grin just before Gaz took the photos, the screen flickering black a couple times before he started tapping at his screen and laughing. He walked over to you both and lowered his screen, letting you see the resulting photo that oozed chaos with the silly toy gun and you and Soap sitting atop the mess of piping.
“Ooft, sexy,” Soap whistled. “Get that up on tinder. You’ll get all sorts of tail with that.”
“Oh yeah, caption writes itself - ‘anyone wanna hold my blaster?’” Gaz sniggered, tapping away again. “That’s going on insta.”
You huffed out a surprise breath at that.
“You’re actually putting that up on your socials?” you asked, frowning. 
Gaz ceased his tapping and tilted his chin up at you. 
“Was gonna, why? do you not want it up?” he asked, showing you the photo again. 
The screen tilted round to reveal a confirmation page with the photo sporting a slightly more dramatic filter. He’d been about to post it with a slightly less ridiculous caption at least ‘Mission success: blockage identified - Soap too big for the sink.’
That didn’t stop you from snorting at it of course. 
“I don’t mind - just figured you’ll get people being strange about you showing off that you hang about with the little hybrid weirdo,” you shrugged. 
“Aw, furball. You don’t have to worry about people finding you weird. Your ears aren’t that big and strange you know,” Soap said, rubbing your arm in mock sympathy. “They might not even qualify as full sized satellites, maybe just small radio towers or- Hey!”
You smiled smugly to yourself after flicking Soap on the nose, but quickly dropped the grin when Soap yanked you back by the shoulders and blew a big gust of air into one of your ears.
“No! Disgusting!” You squealed, wrestling him off and slapping him away while he laughed.  
You rubbed at your ear, screwing up your entire face while you tried to work the feeling of Soap’s breath out of your fur and inner canal. The uncomfortable pressure ceased after a few seconds and finally you were able to stop cringing away from Soap enough to see Gaz shaking his head at you both. 
“Aaand its posted. C’mon, we better start clearing out of here. You can fix that mess with the Pipes, Soap.”
“Fuck sake,” Soap cursed, looking around at his mess. “Thought this was gonna be worth it as well.”
His grumbling didn’t stop as he got through his work either. As he put the sink back together you sat on top of the desk by Gaz while he sat on the chair and scrolled through his phone. You didn’t really have anything to do, so you twisted the manual round that you’d been teaching the guys from and started flicking through the old yellowing pages. The corners felt like they might melt away from even just fingering through them, it was so ancient, but that wasn’t the only sign that the book wasn’t from your lifetime. After skipping to a random page, your eyes widened into saucers and your mouth almost dropped to the cold concrete below. 
“What the fuck,” you breathed out loud, reading over the page contents with a dry mouth.  
Gaz’s interest peaked at that. Out of the corner of your peripherals you saw his eyes drift from his phone to look over the page you’d pulled.
“Yo! What the hell is that about,” Gaz cackled, pulling his chair up and scraping it over the concrete to get a closer look. “Proper Maintenance of your Hybrid’s Hygiene? That’s nasty.”
Soap looked over from his work and frowned.
“What’s so nasty about that?” 
“Nah, I can’t tell you. You gotta come over here and see this, mate.”
You frowned down at the book, casting your eyes over the frankly awful illustrations therein with a sickening mix of horror and gratitude for not having to have experienced anything depicted in them for yourself. Below the section title, In the two little boxes with smaller boxes off shooting from them were mirror images of a man standing over a bathtub with a hybrid in it, however in one box there was a female hybrid and the other a male. In the smaller boxes were close up pictures of the illustrated hybrids' tails, ears and genitals with captions that explained the proper way to keep them clean and healthy. 
“As you will well know, being experienced handlers in training,” Gaz read aloud, using a posh old timey voice, “Hybrids do not have the mental capacity that humans possess. As such, they are simply not capable of keeping themselves adequately clean, which means this is a care requirement you must oversee yourself at least once a week. Following the diagrams above you must draw a bath for your hybrid and have them clean their bodies under your guidance and ensure their tails, ears and extremities are maintained to regulation. You must make sure to prevent water flooding their ear canals, as this can cause infection, you must clean and detangle/deshed their tails using a long tooth or a short tooth brush depending on their fur texture, and you must ensure their genitals/nethers are kept cleaned of any discharge, excrement, c-crust build up or- fuckin hell I can’t. This is actual slander. How did they get away with writing this?”
“This is some absolute specist nonsense,” you scoffed, taking the manual from Gaz, who was slowly losing it to soundless laughter, and turning it so that it faced you.
“So in this section it’s basically hammering it into you that I’m apparently too dumb to wash my own shit covered ass, and then in thiiiis page…” you trailed, flicking back a few pages to a title that had almost caught your interest before, “yeah here. In this section it details ‘training techniques and guides for making your hybrid competent in use of blades and blunt weapons.’ So essentially I have to be watched to make sure I get my fuckin ‘crust’ or whatever cleaned off because I’m an incompetent beast, but I can also be reasonably expected to wield a fucking machete! What kind of bullshit is this?!”
Soap and Gaz were dead silent for a few seconds, lips sealed firmly shut and eyes wide as you waved the page around that had the giant sword diagram. That is, until the moment they both looked at each other. After that they burst out into floods of laughter, clutching their chests and howling like animals themselves until tears started falling down their cheeks. 
“It’s not funny!” you growled, taking another look through the ‘guide’ for anymore terrible tidbits. 
“It’s not, it’s really not,” Gaz affirmed, trying to hold in his giggles. “It’s really fucked up, but c’mon, mate. Crust!”
“They didn’t even have to go into that crust shite, but the fact they went on and actually specified the parts in the diagram that had to be cleaned and all that,” Soap wheezed, “I don’t know who the experience is worse for! Where did Ghost even pull this crap from? Did he time travel back to 1945?”
You groaned and turned to the front page, ears drooping back when you found the publishing date. 
“Man, this is from the fucking seventies,” you frowned, realising what torments could’ve befallen you had you been born just a bit earlier. “Wait…you guys don’t think this is Ghost’s personal copy…”
You cut yourself off. All of you were silent.
“Well its possible they could’ve just issued Ghost with an old copy rather than print new ones,” Gaz shrugged, voice weak from laughing so much already. “You know what budgeting’s like.”
“Hold the bus, I’m gonna google something,” Soap announced, pulling his own phone out his trousers and quietly muttering to himself. “Hybrid hygiene, British army regulations…here we go…from the 1960’s hybrids were able to voluntarily join the army or be transferred in from institutes for displaced hybrids and… hygiene was taught in handler training courses and monitored by…then up until 20- steamin’ jesus.” 
“What?” you and Gaz sounded off in unison.
“Essentially says here that the practice of teaching hybrid hygiene and monitoring it didn’t completely end in all British bases until well after Ghost joined up which means…-”
“Ghost is probably a certified crust inspector,” you said gravely. 
At that you all burst out laughing. The room practically shook, none of you could contain yourselves, the sounds ricocheted off the walls and exploded in your ears. Though you couldn’t muster the wherewithal to care. For a few moments you all laughed in a joint heap until slowly you all came back to yourselves and closed the manual, doing all you could to stop yourself from launching it out the skylight above. 
“That’s fuckin awful stuff,” Soap said, finally getting back to finishing up with the sink. “Glad I never signed up for any o’ that pish. I’ll gladly take apart a bomb before I have to supervise you in the tub, furball.” 
“Me too,” Gaz sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Least you’ll never have to get bathed and de-crusted. Almost puts a silver lining on Branhaven if you never had to deal with that, huh?”
“God, I never thought I’d say it, but thank you Maddox for being a neglectful dick,” you muttered, giggling after Gaz snorted from next to you. 
-🐺- 
Later on that day, after Soap and Gaz had dropped you off with Price, the full schedule that you’d been handed weighed heavily on you. You drooped over Price’s sofa and were barely able to read more than a few pages of your new book until you gave up and slumped fully into the cushions. 
You happily dozed off with the sound of Price’s accompanying pen scratches and mutterings, your lips curving into a soft smile against the saggy old cushions. Cigar smoke and musk cradled your prone form and with just the gentlest hint of spiced citrus, you were letting it carry you off to sleep. 
However, before unconsciousness could fully take you, a loud unfamiliar knock sounded at Price’s door and shattered you from any notion of rest. Your heart beat rapidly, chest thumping heavily and you sat up fully and at attention.
You looked over at Price, watching as he put down his pen and shuffled his papers. He made a brief second of eye contact and shrugged as if to tell you that he didn’t know who it was until he looked back toward the darkened door. He’d yet to turn his main light on, instead he sat commanding the room from his lamplit desk. 
“Yes. Who is it?” he barked, rubbing his weary eyes.
“Captain, it’s Major Kelly, I need to speak with you about an incident involving your team’s hybrid. Can I come in?” Called a lilting Irish voice.
Your ears perked up and again you looked at Price, but he didn’t look back at you this time. He set his jaw in a tight line and folded his hands up across the top of his desk, thumping them heavily into the wood. 
“Door’s open, Major,” he called, voice booming in a way you hadn’t heard it before. “Let’s hear it.”
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daisies-daydreams · 1 year
Note
141 reacting to civilian!reader getting into an accident and being hospitalised while the team is deployed?
Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Descriptions of Injuries/Stitches/Recovery, Hospitalization Word Count: 1.1k+
Headcanons below the cut.
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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Johnny “Soap” MacTavish 
Johnny opened up a text from you as soon as he had access to his phone. His eyes widened as his heart sank. 
“Fell down the stairs. At the hospital near the apartment” (Sent 2 Days Ago) 
He didn’t even change his clothes, simply throwing off his tactical vest before he jumped into his car. Johnny didn’t care about the speed limit as he rushed to the hospital. His baby was hurt, and he wasn’t there to help them. He almost crashed into another car as he tried to park it, running inside. 
“I’m here to see (Y/N),” Johnny stated, his voice slightly cracking. The nurse directed towards your room. His eyes watered when he saw you, your leg elevated and wrapped in a cast. Your eyes lit up as he walked inside. 
“Johnny,” you smiled. Other than your leg, you sounded just fine, though it didn’t stop him from being careful as he hugged you with his bulky arms. “Are you okay?” you asked as you patted his back. He nodded, his eyes still misty. 
“Yeah, I’ll be alright. But you-” his voice was cut off when he motioned towards your leg. You waved your hand. 
“Something came up and your family wasn’t able to help me on the last day. I was carrying a box up the stairs and I…slipped,” you lowered your head as if ashamed of yourself. Johnny mentally slapped himself. Both of you were moving into a new apartment and he wasn’t there to help. He should’ve been there for you. He could’ve caught you or carried the box himself. Could’ve…should’ve…
A gentle kiss to his cheek drew him out of his own head. 
“Bonnie?” he blinked. You smiled as you smoothed your thumb across his hand. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. But you know what would help me feel much better?” you asked.  
“What?” he said. You grinned. 
“A kiss from my devastatingly handsome boyfriend,” you said while wiggling your brows. Johnny chuckled before cupping your face, tenderly pressing his lips to yours. Both of you ended up watching a game show on the hospital TV, falling asleep while holding each other’s hands. 
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Simon “Ghost” Riley 
Simon’s hands shook as he strode into the hospital. He received several missed calls from you-all while he was deployed. Your last voicemail sent chills down his spine. 
“Hey, Si. I-I was in a car accident. I’m sorry…” your voice was hoarse as you sobbed throughout the message. 
The words replayed in Simon’s mind the entire ride over. He tried to remain as calm as possible, though his blood still ran cold as he walked into your room. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw you lying on your bed, your body covered in bandages and bruises. Your eyes flicked open and you weakly smiled as he walked up to you. 
“Hey love,” Simon murmured, as if afraid to startle you. 
“Si,” you breathed out. Your monitor was beeping a little faster than before as he wrapped his hand around yours. He squeezed it gently as he kissed you. 
“I’ll be okay. The doctor said that I should be good to go home in a few days,” you said. He nodded, his eyes scanning over your battered body. 
“If you don’t mind tellin’ me, what happened?” Simon asked. Tears started to well in your eyes as your lip trembled. 
“I-I was coming home from the store late because I forgot something. There was a green light at the intersection…I went, and-” your voice was cut off when you began to shake and cry. Simon felt his heart ache as he tried to hold you as carefully as he could. 
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, love. I’m here,” he cooed. Simon didn’t pressure you to talk about it anymore, instead letting you cry on his shoulder as he whispered comforting words into your ear. 
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick 
Kyle padded through the hospital, his heart racing wildly. You had texted him while he was deployed that you had an accident while you were riding your bike. When he saw the word “concussion”, he didn’t waste a second getting to the hospital.
Kyle felt his heart glow when he saw you smile as he walked into the room, though his smile faltered when he saw your arm in a sling and stitches across your head.
“Ky,” you called.
“Hey there, hun,” he grinned wearily. Kyle strode over and kissed you softly. Your eyes seemed a bit unfocused when he pulled back. “Heard you hit your head pretty hard,” Kyle said. You went to shrug but winced slightly. “Love? What’s wrong?” he asked with furrowed brows.
“I broke my collar bone, too. I think the drugs are starting to wear off,” you grunted.
“I’ll ring the nurse,” he said before pressing the extension on your bed’s remote. You beamed.
“My hero,” you swooned dramatically. He chuckled, eyes glistened as he held your hand.
“You sure you’re alright?” Kyle asked. You hummed.
“Of course I’m alright. I have the most handsome man in the world right next to me,” you slurred. His lips twisted as conflicting emotions barraged inside of him. On one hand, you were clearly in pain. But on the other…
“And who would that be?” Kyle asked. You blew a raspberry.
“YOU, duh,” you rolled your eyes. He smiled and pecked your cheek. God, he’s missed you.
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Captain John Price 
John drove like a bat out of hell towards the hospital. You had left him a text saying that you had slipped while getting out of the shower, yet there hasn’t been a message since. He’s seen a lot throughout the years-but God forbid something happens to the ones he loves. John marched towards the desk and was fidgeting while being signed in.
Once he was able, he rushed down the halls, nearly running into several doctors and patients. A lump formed in his throat when he saw your jaw hinged shut and stitches across your lower chin. You waved over at him, cheeks swollen as you smiled. 
“Hi, love,” John sniffed. You tilted your head as much as you could. He swallowed thickly as he slid in the chair next to you, scooting in closer. You held your hand out. John had to bite the inside of his cheek as he slid his larger palm into yours. He was shocked when tears began to freely flow down his face as he pressed your hand up to your forehead. You patted his arm with your other free hand, brows slightly furrowed. 
“I wasn’t sure if I lost you,” he confessed with a shaky breath. You stopped patting him and rested your hand on his forearm. John looked up at you, his eyes red and gushing with tears. 
“Promise me that you’ll be more careful, please,” he begged. You held your hand up and shook it in a nodding motion. John sniffed before gently kissing your knuckles. “I love you,” he breathed. Even though you couldn’t speak, he knew you’d say the same. 
____
Thank you for reading! ❤️
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Text
A Problem (Vs x Retro!Reader)
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“Babes, we’ve got a problem,” Velvette said over the phone. She held me close as I cried, rubbing my back. She had no idea how to calm me down.
“What? What is it this time?” Valentino snapped, on the other end. He was at his studio, in a bad mood. “What useless bullshit do you have to bother me with today?”
“Calm your man-tits, Val, this isn’t about my models,” Vel said, rolling her eyes. “It’s about-”
“He left me!” I cried, cutting her off. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. “He- he actually-”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Velvette said, softer as she tried to comfort me. “It’s about Retro.”
“Retro? Was that them just now?” Val asked, standing up. He made a gesture at Travis, putting him in charge. The actors continued to shoot the scene as Val stalked off.
“‘Fraid so,” Vel said with a sigh. “Vox, can you help us out here?”
“Vox? He’s on call?” Val asked. He looked at his phone and sure enough, all three were on call together. “Hey asshole! Your wife is fucking crying, get over there and do something about it!”
“…”
“I think he’s asleep,” Velvette said quietly. “He’s been overworking himself, you know, and if he were awake he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Retro. He’d have been here in an instant to help.”
Valentino made his way to Velvettes office, muttering curses the whole way. “Fuck, of course he’s out cold,” he said, shaking his head. “Right when we need him, too.”
“I know, it’s inconvenient,” she said with a sigh. I tugged on her sleeve and she pulled me closer, hugging me tight. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she whispered into the phone, nervous.
Valentino finally walked into the room, looking annoyed. “Inconvenient doesn’t even begin to describe it,” he grumbled. His expression softened when he saw me. “Oh sweetheart,” he said softly, sitting down next to me and Velvette.
“V-Val?” I asked, looking up at him. I tried to wipe the tears from my face but they just kept coming. “What are you- don’t you have work?”
“Work can wait, mi amor,” he said, gently bringing me into his lap. Velvette looked relieved. Ironically, Valentino was better at handling emotion than she was. She had no idea how to comfort people, but he was actually sort of decent at it. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“I-I,” I started crying again, burying my head against his chest. “I was just- and he- I tried- but- he… he left- he left me!”
“Oh,” he said softly. He had no idea what that meant. He looked towards Velvette, utterly confused. “Babydoll, what the fuck does that mean?” He whisper-hissed to her. She shrugged, looking just as lost. He gave her a look. “That is not useful,” he grumbled, pulling her into his lap with me.
“I think it was a nightmare?” She said tentatively, patting my head. Valentino was rubbing my back, with one arm around my waist, the other around Velvettes. “…or something? I mean, they know Vox is still with them. He’s not gone anywhere, and neither have you.”
“So who’s the ‘he’ in question?” Val asked, giving me a kiss on the top of my head. “There, there, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He paused for a moment, trying to think.
“I don’t know,” Vel said, taking my hand in hers. She rubbed her thumb along my knuckles gently. “I think we just need to be here for them right now. I think k we just need to comfort them.”
“But I’m horrible at comforting people!” Valentino groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. He had a pout on his face as he looked at Vel.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you,” she said with a small laugh. She gestured to me. I was still leaning against Val, but I was relaxed now, my eyes closed. I’d fallen asleep. “They seem to think you’re plenty comforting.”
“Oh,” he said softly. He smiled, proud of himself, and drew me closer, so we were cuddling. “Well then, I guess I was wrong.” He looked at me softly, admiring how peaceful I looked. “I’m glad I could comfort you, mi amor.”
“Same,” Vel said with an awkward laugh. “You should’ve seen me! I was panicked, I had no idea what to do.”
“It turned out well enough, I think,” he said with a small laugh of his own. “Even if Vox wasn’t here to work his magic… I think we did good.”
“We’ll have to give him a talking to later,” Velvette said, grinning. “Tell him to take care of himself so we don’t have to do this alone.”
“Oh for sure, he knows Retro better than anyone,” Val said softly. “I feel like… like sometimes, we aren’t as good partners for them. Compared to him.”
“Yeah…” Vel said with a nod, looking away. “They seem to like us well enough, though. I think that counts for something. It has to, right?”
“Yeah,” Val said.
“Yeah.”
(Retro was just upset because their kill had gotten away. They were having a bad day and the fact that the person they were trying to murder escaped them was just the straw that broke the camels back lmao.)
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arthursdolly · 2 months
Note
Hiiiiiii Can I please get a scene with Sadie and fem reader having a small argument away from camp so none of the gang can hear them. Fem reader wanders off a little too far and when she comes back Sadie takes her to a secluded spot and argues with her over her safety. Sadie not wanting history to repeat herself lectures reader about possible threats outside of camp, not wanting her to perish like Jake did. Fem reader insists that she’s not a child and can take care of herself. Sadie Being fiery and stubborn continues arguing back. Fem reader then recalls telling Sadie that she was going to pick flowers and Sadie says something along the lines of “you should’ve made damn sure I was listening” through her clenched teeth. Fem readers eyes well up seeing how angry Sadie is and she walks off. Sadie immediately regretting her angry demeanour walks back to camp allowing them both to cool off. Night falls and still no sign of the fem reader. Eventually she comes back around midnight on her horse. Sadie spots fem reader and goes to her . Fem reader is clearly hurt and upset. She has been crying from the redness around her eyes. Sadie gently pulls fem reader into their private shared tent and deeply apologises and does her best but in typical Sadie fashion, gets her words all mixed up and struggles a bit before gathering herself and saying sorry. Fem reader smiles and accepts her apology and sadie explains why she reacted the way she did, not wanting fem reader to die or get hurt like Jake did. She already lost Jake and she isn’t going to lose fem reader. They both pull each other into a hug and they kiss. They then freshen up, put their pjs on and slip into bed together to cuddle. They whisper for a little before sharing one more kiss. They then fall asleep in each others arms.
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𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! afab/fem! reader . reader is shorter than sadie . sensitive reader . reader is shorter than sadie . use of petnames (my angel, honey) . teehee arthur and charles mention . we love sadie adler!!
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u didn't mean it. really, u didn't. u got distracted that's all.
u were sitting on one of the crates, focusing on doing the chores that ms. grimshaw asked so seriously of the girls to do. soon though u were losing the ability to focus on ur sewing, u looked around the camp surroundings for a moment; taking a small break, if u will. u turned around for a moment, and then a deer caught ur attention. it was quite the distance away from camp, but u wanted to take a closer look, and so- you did. not realising how far the deer really was, but u continued. if it wasn't so obvious to anyone in the gang.
deers were ur favourite. didn't take too long before arthur and charles heard about it; within ur tent, on a table weremini carvings of deer that charles gave to u if he's ever that bored within camp grounds or sees one when he's away. inside a small box (a gift from charles) there were many sketching and drawings of deer when arthur ever saw one on his travels, they could be sketched with the lightest caress of lead to paper or drawn rough as to see every detail he caught within his skill. u always loved the way he drew. deer were so pretty in ur eyes. the way they gracefully walk for more food or speedily run away if something or someone scares them too much. they were such fragile and passive creatures. u adored them with everything u had. and so u follow it, getting further away...
only now is when u started to regret following one, when u were getting further and further away from camp with every calculated step u took, just to get closer to the pretty thing.
ur gf, sadie pulled u to the outskirts of camp to sternly talk to u about it. now sadie, u adored her with every fibre of ur being. she was super sweet and protective over u and an even bigger sweetheart once the tent flap was down, away from prying eyes. anytime u catch her figure in camp, ur pupils practically turned to mini hearts every time. like clockwork. u just knew she would do anything she could to make sure u were safe, by her side or not. although, in this moment, she can be an intimidating girl when she needs to be, especially to get her point of view across to u. like now.
“didn't mean to, love- i jus- i jus' wanted t'get a closer look at it. sadie, 'm sorry i got ya worried like that, but 'm fine. aint no harm done.” u say as u avoid her intense gaze for a moment or two. u knew her well enough to know that she was upset and yet caring, but u did go wandering off. u couldn't help it! and sadie? sadie wasn't having it. “hone- I've told ya before, don't be leavin' camp without me or anyone else knowin', [name].” sadie says with a slight stern tone as she's keeping her gaze fixed on u “im fine, nothin' happened t'me.” u add with a soft sigh as u cross ur arms, but knowing sadie.
she continues. she was stubborn like that. “y'know what could've happened? ye could've gotten hurt, lost, injured, or even killed, I'd hate fer anythin' t'happen t'ya.” u rolled ur eyes at her words. u knew she meant well. she didn't want to lose u after she lost jake years ago. but then again, u can look after urself. “oh sadie- I ain't a child no more. i can look after myself-” “don't give me that, i know ya ain't a child. u should know to stay in camp if i ain't there.” and an annoyed sigh escapes ur throat. u adored her, but u hated arguing. “sadie, i know what im do-” “ya should've made sure ye were listening t'me through that damn skull of yers!”
and there she goes. there u go, even. u kept ur gaze fixed up at him, feeling ur doe eyes blur with tears at her words. how could she be so... mean to u? u were a sensitive girl, and she knew that. the gang knew that, but u were able to hide how u feel, but not all the time. after moments of silence... “dont follow me.” u softly say before u walked away from her. sadie was quickly felt with guilt not long after. she was never good with her mood. her temper controlled her more than she did. she sighed at her own reluctant words before she walked off. giving u both the time to cool off.
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night falls and sadie still can't find u. she can't even bring herself to still be mad at u now. she checked the girl's sleeping wagon, ur not there. she checked the campfire, not here either. she checked the outskirts of camp and nothing. “if yer tryna find her, she left on 'er horse.” as horse voice say. sadie turned out, and it's her close friend, arthur. he was one of the few good men within this wild gang of outlaws. “thank ya, arthur.” sadie replies with a soft sigh. she didn't feel guilty about the whole thing, and yet, arthur was quick to notice her body language. “'m sure she'll come t'ya when she's ready.” he says as he takes a draw of his cigarette. sadie nodded at his words before walking off to ur shared tent to wait for ur return.
hours later, sadie made her way over to u once u hitched off ur horse, tiff. she took a glance of ur face, and her notso cold heart almost breaks for u. she hated the way she made u feel after the argument. she studied ur pretty face, red and puffy with tear stains on ur cheeks. ur doe eyes still glossed with those tears that fell when she said those hurtful words she said to u. she quickly took ur hand and brought u to the shared tent.
“i-... i didn't mean any of that, jus- i got worried 'bout ya, not that ya 'm tellin' ye what t'do or anythin', its jus- ye worried me a lot 'nd, im-... 'm sorry, sweetheart.” sadie says as the words stumble out her lips. u knew she was never good with her feelings, but u knew she was trying her best. her mind was racing with thoughts, and yet her mouth never caught up with what she wanted to say. and of course, u knew what she meant. u knew her well enough. a small smile creeps onto ur face. “i know 'nd... i fergive ya.” u say softly as ur soft gaze meets her brown eyes, u wrap your arms around her torso as she wraps her arms around ur waist. she rested her head on top of ur head as she spoke. “i love ya. really, i do. I'd jus' hate t'lose ya like that, honey... especially with those fellers pinktertons after the gang, after us. i jus' dont wanna lose another person who's special t'me. i don't want ya gone like Jake-” “its okay, sadie. 'm sorry fer reactin' like that, ye jus' meant well.” u say as she embraced u even more, her grip tightening slightly. she adored u that much she wouldn't even know what to do if she lost u. "wouldn't know what t'do with myself if i lost ya..." ur gf says as she leans in, kissing ur lips softly as she glides her hands to squeeze ur hips gently. without hesitation, u kissed back, adoring the sweet ur both sharing.
ur now getting undressed, leaving urself in ur chemise as u got ready to fall asleep next to ur lover. she was already in the cot, waiting for her favourite girl to cuddle with. she was staring at u as u were minding ur own business. u were so pretty.. she had no idea whatever lucky deity decided to bless her with a girl like u after everything's shes done. she was an outlaw and here u were, a sweet girl by her side. she was head over heels for u, she'd go to hell and back just for u. once u looked at her, she extended her arms towards u and u immediately climbs into the bed nd let her wrap her arms around u. “i love ya, honey.” u whisper in her ear, looking into her brown eyes as u saw them sparkle. she was so in love with u. “I love ya too, my angel.” sadie whispers back before she kisses ur forehead. u were exhausted after everything that happened so it wasn't a surprise that u fell asleep first just as sadie was stroking ur hair, relaxing u even more.
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orangesocksonmyeyes · 5 months
Text
right side of my neck pt2
bf!rafe cameron x gf!reader
warnings: mentions of violence (not against reader), slight manipulation, toxic relationship blah blah typical rafe stuff
this isn’t proof read SUE ME
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after a lot of convincing and possible begging, rafe finally agreed to not do anything.
i eventually passed out in his arms with my head tucked against his chest. he was a night owl. most nights when i slept, he didn’t. we were opposites in many ways and sometimes i wondered how we became a functioning couple.
i stirred in my sleep when i felt the bed dip and arms return around me. this time they were cold. my eyes flickered open to see rafe already looking at me with sleepy eyes. his hair was disheveled and sweat glistened on his forehead in the dim lighting of the moon.
he must’ve noticed my staring because he quickly started running his hand through my hair, something he often does to get me to fall asleep.
it almost worked, had it not been for the slight wince i saw on his face when i leaned towards his hand.
i quickly sat up and clicked on the bedside lamp, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling his hand into view. fresh bruises and cuts littered his knuckles, the skin dry and cracked from the cold.
i should’ve made him promise.
he tucked his other arm behind his head, as if nothing was wrong at all. “are you serious?” i muttered, dropping his hand as i stared at him. he stared back at me, laying his fallen hand flat on his stomach. “you said you wouldn’t do anything, rafe.” i put my fingers to my temples in frustration.
rafe drummed his fingers along his stomach. “relax. he won’t tell.” he said nonchalantly.
he wont tell. good, so he’s alive.
“that’s not even the point.” i muttered, glancing at the clock that read 4:15am. i fell asleep at one, he was gone for three hours doing who knows what to that guy.
rafe leaned on his elbows as he sat up. he reached for my hands, i pulled away.
“baby, i did this for you.” he said, his voice cracking.
his looked at me with puppy dog eyes.
despite how i wanted to react, my heart ached at his words. i often had to remind myself that rafe didn’t think like i did. or like anyone did.
i sighed and pulled him into my chest by the nape of his neck, his looped his arms around my waist as i held him. “did anyone see you?” i whispered.
“do they ever?” he hummed.
cocky bastard.
———————————————————————
ermm nobody beat me up for this being SO short 😃 this is for @iwasunderduress again and any1 else who showed love on part one. I LOVE U 😜
drew looks so fine in that pic hello ? #drewstarkeymunch
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leechanpremacy · 1 year
Text
People You Know
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After the death of his wife, he starts a whole new life in a whole new city with his three year old twins only to meet someone from his past. What a way to start something new, right?
pairings: psychiatrist!jeonghan, parent!jeonghan x doctor!reader petowner!reader
tags: fluff, crack, slow burn, exes to lovers, romance, angst (if you think into it really deeply), swearings
word count:
tag list: @sadgirlroo @loyard176
notes: i’ve been dreading to write jeonghan as a parent of twins, now having the motivation and inspiration to write the plot, IM ON CLOUD NINE!!! lmao i’m also planning on posting this as an au on twitter if time, and motivation persists as my alter ego’s such a lazy ass bitch that takes at least half a month to find motivation to do updates on on-going twitter series’ THIS might also be turned in to a series (fuck, my mingyu series long forgotten 💀)
one | masterlist | three
two.
A sweet aroma filled the kitchen as the rays of sunlight slowly ran through the house. Humming as he set the pancakes on the plates, Mingyu then looked at his friend who had been watching him the entire time, “I should wake them up now, right?” Jeonghan asks, still groggy from waking up early in the morning as Mingyu bombarded him with texts and calls that he was coming over to cook breakfast for the twins.
“Why are you asking me? They’re your children, not mine!” Mingyu’s laugh triggered something in Jeonghan that finally woke his whole being. “Damn. Why didn’t you call me a night before this? I just fell asleep when you called you clumsy ass.” Snickering remarks to his friend who kept laughing at him.
“You? Just fell asleep at 4-AM? You’re lying.” Jeonghan ignored him, walking towards his twins’ room. He would be lying if he said that he was just busy doing chores and watching his kids sleep as thoughts haunted him, but he’d rather keep the reason to himself first.
He softly knocked on their door, opening it ever so slowly as he walked towards Yuna’s bed first. “Yuna, wake up. It’s time for breakfast,” Placing a soft kiss on her forehead before tapping his daughter by the shoulder.
He couldn’t help but wear a fond smile as he watched his daughter fluttered her eyes open. The fond smile slowly turning into a grin as her daughter rouses with a smile, “Good morning Dada,” She mumbles, stretching her arms towards him. Jeonghan gladly leaned in to be welcomed by a morning kiss on his cheeks by his daughter.
“Uncle Mingyu’s outside, he made you and Yejun breakfast.” He tells his daughter, amused at how she quickly rose from her bed, giggling as she calls for her uncle Mingyu.
Turning to his son who had his blanket covering half his face, he grins at how his son’s similar to his little habits. He crouched to face his son, smiling to himself as he adored the lines that drew around his face. Yejun got his father’s eyes, nose, and the lips. Almost a carbon copy of him, if he would insist.
His deceased wife would always complain that how come, none of the twins got her genes. And as he would always laugh it off, he would always tell her that they got her personality. But it had never occurred to him that he should’ve told her that they did got her genes. The arch of their brows that were longer than his, the folds of their ears that had the same lines and shape of their mother’s, the structure of their teeth that were relatively small highlighting their gums, they were the small details that he came to memorize as he gazed at his twins every time he remembers her.
Yejun must’ve stirred from Jeonghan’s constant caressing on his son’s brows that were now furrowed. “Dada?” Smiling at his son, “Good morning baby, did you have a good night’s sleep?” Yejun nodded, rubbing his eyes open. “Uncle Mingyu cooked you and Yuna breakfast, let’s go?” Hands in front of his son, ready to pick him up from bed to shake off his sleepiness.
Jeonghan groans, having enough of Mingyu’s glances. “What is it?” He whines, “You do look sleep deprived. Just noticed your bags, they look heavy.” Talking with his mouth that had a small amount of food, making his lisp easier to notice.
“I was unpacking.” Widening his eyes, “Until early in the morning?!” Holding both his hands to his mouth, “Who are you and where is the Yoon Jeonghan that was a lazy bum?!” Gasping exaggeratedly as Mingyu watched Jeonghan throw him a glare after rolling his eyes.
“Anyway, do you know any baby sitters? I have something to do and I can’t bring the twins there.” Grinning like a puppy, “I can babysit them! When is it?” Mingyu’s eyes were practically gems that were flashed with light that shined altogether. “You can’t. Didn’t you say you were busy on October?”
“October? October?! It’s still August though?!” Flabbergasted at how far it still was from the day Jeonghan had to be away.
“It’s on October fourth and I can’t give it a pass. It’s my first day at my new Job after all.” Humming at his answer, “Tell me again why you left the HR position on the firm and became a Psychiatrist instead?” Mingyu asks.
“I didn’t went to Med school to get my Medical Degree and license for nothing Gyu.” Chuckling in between, trying to hide the bitterness that lingered in his tongue.
“Oh, right…” Pursing his lips as he looks at Jeonghan with guilt.
“But where though?” Trying to divert the topic, “At St. Lukes.” A small ‘oh’ came out from Mingyu’s lips. Surprise visible with his slightly widened eyes. “Hoshi already told me, Wonwoo already gave me a heads up, Dino warned me, so yes. I know that Y/N also works there with the others.”
“Have you met her already?” Nodding lightly with a smile, “Yeah. Ran by her at the nearby park with her dog.”
“Talked to her too, and I’ve got to admit it,” Intently looking at Jeonghan with interest, “She’s changed, at the same time, she didn’t.” Jeonghan had this somber look on his face, but he could see that his smile was genuine. “I guess she pretty much matured? It is— or it has, been a long time since I last saw and talked to her causally. It was, warm and nostalgic.” Mingyu notices the smile on Jeonghan’s face but kept silent about it.
“You! Dumbass!” You practically sprawled your arms towards Hoshi who was now trying to get away from you, “You stupid piece of shit ass head!” You kept yelling, pinching his arms, pulling strands of his hair, “How could you loose a dog! A leashed dog to add!” Hoshi kept muttering apologies, still trying to get away from your grasps, coaxing you that’ll he’ll find Manju whatever happens.
“What the hell?” Wonwoo asks, hands full with two plastic bags, full of food. “Hoshi just lost Manju while we were inside.” Dino shares as the two of them watched you and Hoshi run around the block, you trying to kill him and Hoshi trying to save his own life.
“But you’re holding her?” Looking down at the sitting dog that had her tail wagging as it watched its owner chase down her handler earlier. “Y/N saw her the moment we stepped out of the store, thank God no one took the chance to kidnap the dog.” Chortling, “I don’t think Manju would easily come with strangers. The dog’s smarter than you and Hoshi combined.” Earning a glare from Dino, Wonwoo kept on laughing as the other started rambling on how he has the brains as he’s a doctor.
“Are we there yet?” It was the nth time Dino had ask and it looked like Hoshi was getting sick of it as he smacked him from the front seat. You laughed at Dino’s misery but was quickly stopped when you bumped you’re head to Wonwoo’s seat who was driving. “Karma works fast,” Letting out his tongue at you teasingly.
Non stop bickering filled the car with you amusingly watched Hoshi and Dino debate about chicken rights. “Nut heads.” Wonwoo mumbles, joining you as Hoshi passionately defended queer chicken rights.
It took roughly eight minutes before the bickering two noticed that the car has come to a halt. “We’re here?!” Dino excitedly claims, “Please let there be ko emergencies,” quickly mumbling as he went out of the car.
The three of you simultaneously sighed before wishing that Dino didn’t jinxed your outing.
“Are you excited?” Malice hidden within Hoshi’s squinting eyes, the conscious grin he wore made you feel weirded out by him. “Excited for what?”
“See him at work!” Hoshi squeals, sounding like a teenager who rolled on his bed at night just because his crush talked to him. “See who?” Feinting ignorance as you continued to brush your dog’s fur.
“Jeonghan!” pursing your lips, “Why would I? Its not like were still close or ended up in good terms,” still refusing to look to Hoshi’s direction.
“But didn’t you miss him?” Pouting as looked for your eyes, “I did… But that’s all in the past now. I’m happy for him knowing that he has a stable job to sustain his little family.” Refusing to give Hoshi your gaze, you hear him sigh as you felt him straightening from his sit. “You really won’t ask anything?” He sadly says which you nodded earning another sigh from him.
“Well, if you really won’t ask, don’t blame me when he talks to you again! Or when you talk to him again?” Sounding confused at his own words, “Ah! Whatever! Don’t blame me when you two start talking again!”
“Has Hoshi been bugging you again with Jeonghan?” Dino asks which you laughed at whilst nodding your head. He had his brows furrowed at you, hesitating to open his mouth before shaking his head and smiling as if it was nothing.
“If you’re here to tell me about Jeonghan again, I swear to the heaven’s Kwon Hoshi that you’ll be seeing live chickens being cook in front of you.” Laughing at your reaction, “I’m not! I was just going to help you with that,” Pointing towards the fruit that you were peeling.
“Want to go on a blind date? I know someone,” Hoshi offers making you roll your eyes, “Not interested.”
“Why though? Isn’t it time for you to settle down?” He asks, curiosity painting his face. Truth be told, he was right. Among the friends that you have, either they’re already committed, engaged or even married. Slowing down from peeling the fruit in your hand, you could feel a small smile crept in your face. You did want to build a family with someone, but that was a dream you once had in the past.
“I’m fine being a dog lady.” You say jokingly. Abruptly standing from your seat as you’ve already finished half (since Hoshi did say that he wanted to help you) “So please excuse this dog lady to tend to her very lovely dog.” Snorting, “More like very aggressive dog.” You smacked his head and watched him playfully glared at you as you walked towards your dog.
Each of you were busy with what your doing when a phone rang. You four simultaneously looked at each other before looking for who’s phone it was.
“Fuck,” You cursed, seeing the saved contact on your screen flash, all caps, ICU. “Keys!” You yelled, before catching it from Wonwoo. “Take Manju for me!” You say before running off to the car and bolted your way to the hospital.
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munsonsreputation · 9 months
Text
I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH
CHAPTER FOUR: WHAT'S IN OUR SYSTEM
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↢ chapter three | series masterlist | chapter five ↣
steve harrington x fem!baker + artist
word count: [12K]
warnings: no use of y/n, talks / mentions of mental spiral, fluff overload (everyone buckle up and prepare to be mush by the end)
summary: you and steve find yourselves entangled in something else besides your feelings. all of the fun things — skin and bones, breakfast and laughter, goodbyes and hellos. it’s dizzying, like a drug that flows your systems and should have the both of you wondering if it’s in any of your best interests. it’s not worth denying or thinking other wise… you both know you’ve made promises, now it’s up to you both to keep them.
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It’s the same room and the same bed Steve had been spending most of his life sleeping in. Worn out and faded gray bed sheets that were long overdue to be replaced and pillows that lost their fluffiness years ago. His bed was nothing special, just the place where he would burrow under after all his hardest days and battles.
But these days his bed was just a place of hiding — somewhere he would go to in order to pass time hoping he could seek comfort even when he knew he couldn’t.
He’d lay and stare up at the ceiling waiting for his parents to drive off so he could finally go down and make himself some food without being victim to a lengthy lecture.
He’d even bunch up the blankets, using them to cover his ears and drown out his parents arguing, which was usually over something so stupid that could’ve been solved with a simple ‘sorry’ or if one of them finally kept quiet and let the other speak.
He managed to master the art of forcing himself to fall asleep so he could escape it, but it always seemed to follow him in his dreams… all the pent up anxiety about the future and how scared he was that he’d turn out just like his parents.
Stuck in the cycle and forcing everyone to walk on eggshells around him.
It was only really a comfortable bed when they weren’t around, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t lonely.
Hearing absolute silence was just as torturous as hearing his mom and dad fight.
A beautiful home, fully furnished that housed the picture perfect family only for it to be amounted to a place that didn’t feel like home at all. What a waste of space that had so much potential for a joyous family to actually live and create memories in. All it was now was filled with loneliness and nightmares.
But there were always those rare occasions where he could dream up a life that didn’t feel so lonely. A place with someone who he cherished and who felt like home to him — more than any furniture or square footage could make him feel.
Last night was one of those nights and only this time he realized it wasn’t a dream.
Through his sluggish eyes, he could still see the indentation in the shape of you from the night before. The little details of the way your arms had laid against the sheets and how your body shifted during the night. Your… his pillow etched with the silhouette of your head and your hair that sprawled over it.
The covers were partly thrown off to the side with you nowhere to be found. And as Steve weakly drew them up just to steal two more minutes of the morning warmth, he was greeted with a big waft of everything you.
The two minutes in bed didn’t seem enticing anymore. He just wanted to get to you now.
Vanilla filling his senses and coaxing his eyes wide awake.
Jasmine brightened up his energy as he made the bed.
Sweet peaches calmed his limbs as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and got himself freshened up for the day.
It should’ve worried him, the way that you could’ve called Nance and have her bring you to Joyce and Hop’s to get your car and head home. Leaving him without saying goodbye or talking about what happened last night. But the anxiety didn’t seem to run through his veins when it came to you or this… he felt safe and tranquil knowing you were still here.
You had put his mind at ease, promising you would be.
Last night he emerged from the bathroom, bare chested with a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his waist. His room was ill-lit, drapes blocking out most of the moonlight, letting only his weak lamp gleam up the corner of the bedroom.
You were already settled and comfortable, fast asleep in his bed. Covers brought up to your shoulders and your knees tucked up, curled like a baby snoozing soundly — or so Steve thought.
He smiled at the sight, content to know that at least you found his bed to be peaceful enough to sleep in. One hand came down to pull the covers up higher over you to keep you warm through the night. His palm lingering over your collarbone, watching and feeling you breathe in and out softly… the memory ingrained in his mind forever now.
“Night, sweet thing.”
It was a muted murmur, the last thing he was supposed to say before he switched off the light and headed downstairs to take the couch, but you had responded.
“Stay,” you stirred softly, shifting against the blankets as you picked up a throaty chuckle. Steve huffing out something about how you almost scared him to death.
But he grinned a tiny bit, crouching down to move the damp strands of hair that covered your cheeks. “You’ve been up this whole time?” he asked quietly, not wanting to invade the tranquil space.
“Mhm,” you crooned, peeping open your eyes to see him through your doziness.
His hair was still wet, itty-bitty beads of water sprinkling his exposed shoulders and the furs on his chest. He looked refreshed, but it was clear that he needed to get some much needed rest.
“We can share the bed, tonight,” you said faintly, bringing one of your hands up from beneath the covers to wrap around his wrist, “please?”
He swore you could feel his pulse in your touch, not that he minded. It felt so raw and so real different from anything he’s ever felt before. Everything about it felt almost sacred, like something out of his wildest dreams just feeling like he was needed by someone when he knew deep down it was him needing you all this time.
“Okay.” He nodded without faltering. He was met with you smiling sleepily at him, finally letting up on his wrist while you moved over to make space for him.
The lamp clicked off, cascading the room with complete darkness as he pulled back the covers and got in beside you. He was careful, putting a few inches between the both of you not knowing if closing it was something you were comfortable with.
“You can come closer,” you whispered quietly, letting your fingertips skim over his arm, letting him know he was alright to do so.
It was almost like second nature, his body drifting closer to you as you closed the remaining millimeters and draped your arms over his. You were like a bear clinging to him, yearning for his warmth and he was pleased to provide it to you on nights like this and forever, for that matter.
“Comfortable?” He chuckled bemused, looking down and seeing your head smushed under his pillow, seeking the proximity the same way he was.
“Extremely.” You sighed contently, breathing him in as your eyes fluttered shut.
Steve’s bed would never be the same, and it’s a sudden pang in his heart when he realized it because now you’ve turned it into a sacred oasis that he never wants to leave.
He swallowed nervously, letting his thumb trace circles over your shoulder. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Me too…very very happy.” You replied sleepily, letting your head nod against his skin letting the sleep consume you.
Steve didn’t want to ruin the moment, to sound desperate when you were trying to fall asleep and so should he. But he just had to ask… to make sure this wasn’t all in his head even when it was so delicate already.
“Will you be here in the morning?” His voice was shaky, trying to keep it stable and composed.
You didn’t waste another second, more awake than ever, as you opened your eyes and smiled up at him.
“I promise.”
That night there wasn’t any silence or his parents fighting — no agonizing sounds keeping him from feeling like this wasn’t a holy place. It was your breathing, gentle inhales and exhales as he watched your chest rise, wondering if you were dreaming about him. With each passing second that he listened to your breathing, taking it in like a lullaby to his ears, he let his eyes float closed, drawing him somewhere where it was just you and him. 
His footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs that he jogged down, turning towards the living room and into the kitchen where he was met with your back facing him.
You were still dressed in his clothes, a pair of striped boxer shorts rolled over your waistline and an old faded Hawkins track team t-shirt — they both looked better on you than it ever did him.
His cheeks rose, lips tugging into a smile as he approached you. His arms rested on either side of the counter, caging you in, “morning, early bird.”
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” you teased with a giggle, leaning into the peck that he pressed on your cheek before turning to him and frowning deceptively. He looked almost worried, like he might have done something wrong, but then you broke into a grin.
“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed.” You admitted, turning your head to the dining table where you had already prepared some cut up fruit in a bowl with a side of honey and yogurt you found in the fridge.
He ruined your surprise, yet didn’t feel an ounce of regret. Instead, his heart flocked with fever, blood rushing, and his cheeks beginning to grow sore with how much broader he was smiling now.
Breakfast in bed? An actual meal and not just a piece of toast slathered in peanut butter… not that he would ever mind if you brought him that because he’d eat anything you’d give him. But this just feels other worldly.
“That’s sweet,” he replied appreciatively, letting the smile linger on his face because he was quite sure he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to — all of this was just too much for his heart to handle, “but you could’ve slept in, I wouldn’t have minded at all.”
He’d skip breakfast if it meant he got to lie awake in the morning sunlight and watch you dream until you woke. But he also wouldn’t want to pass out on this, the sweetness of the moment with you being here and doing this for him when you didn’t have to.
You shrugged, setting down the whisk you were using for the pancake batter and letting your arms wrap around his neck, stretching yourself into him in a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in his arms, cradling your back and pulling you closer.
“I wanted to… felt right.” Your words springing against his skin like a million tiny kisses.
Right there in that moment, everything felt right.
He pulled back just enough to see you, a pout playing on your lips not being able to hide away in his neck. “Well, at least let me help. I can make a mean scrambled egg.” He smirked, wiggling his brow as you glanced up at him and giggled.
You rested your chin on his chest, keeping your orbs on him, and you’re sure you looked a mess.
Hair still a little tangled within the hideous bun you tossed it up into this morning. And your face looking dull not having the chance to give it a proper wash and moisturize with your beloved products waiting at your apartment.
You shouldn’t feel your best, but all of those silly insecurities don’t seem to matter, not when Steve is looking at you with fondness in his eyes, like he’s done it a million times before. Taking you in like you’re the sunshine and he’s the flora, leaves eager to soak you in and bask in your rays for as long as you’d let him.
Nothing about this feels weird or nerve racking. If anything, it feels comfortable, like home. A kind of familiarity the two of you just decided to lie in together.
Finally, after all the morning ogling, you answer him. “I’d be a fool to pass out on it, Chef Harrington.”
You tapped your fingertips along the back of his neck and he laughed at the feeling, tucking his chin down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “On it.”
Steve has moved around this kitchen many times before. He’s not the best cook in the world, almost cuts his fingers off every time he tries to finely chop ingredients or nearly burns himself with how hot he lets the pan get. But he knows how to cook food that tastes good and keeps him fed.
But you… you moved around his kitchen like it’s the waltz and you made it look effortless. The way you strode from the cabinets in search of something, eyes lighting up when you found the brown sugar and hugging it to your chest as you stepped back to grab a small bowl. You poured a teeny serving in, rolling the bag shut and striding back to put it where you found it.
You took the gooey eggshells from his hands as you swept past him, discarding them into the trash and giving your hands a wash under the tap before you dried them on a towel resting on the counter. Then you’re back at the stove, peppering a light dust of brown sugar over the raw pancake batter and giving them a flip.
It’s as if you rehearsed it — the rise and fall of every movement you make and how you make the space feel alive even in the early hours. It’s an addicting sight, like something Steve wants to watch over and over again in real time… but only, there are eggs in his pan and he’d be damned if he would mess up the first thing he’s ever cooked for you.
“What’s that for?” Steve cleared his throat with a cough, tearing his eyes from you and turning them towards the stove.
You hummed, facing him and observing how he pulled the raw eggs towards the center of the pan with the spatula. He’s focused — you’re about to have the best scrambled eggs of your life and the slight tip he gives the pan proves it to you.
“It gives them a little crust with some sweetness. That way, you don’t have to use too much syrup and it doesn’t get soggy by the time you’re done cooking them all.” You told him.
“And where’d you learn that?” He asked, taking his eyes off the pan and bringing them straight to yours.
Your shoulders bounced, bottom lip moving over your top one. “Nowhere specific, kinda just experimented, and it worked!”
Steve should’ve known… you’re far better in the kitchen than he is and he’d take all your advice, self taught or read in a cookbook.
“Smart girl.” He complimented with a coy smile as you grinned before you both turned back to the dishes.
The next seven minutes were spent with Steve plating the eggs and you forming a stack of brown sugar pancakes on top of one another. He worked on setting the table, grabbing extra napkins to get close by and making sure you both had clean glasses.
Even when you weren’t at home, you were always trying to be a good host. This time finding yourself in his fridge, moving bottles and containers over as if it would help you find something that wasn’t there.
“Are you sure you don’t want orange juice? I swear I could juice some right now!” You called out, eyeing the fresh fruits that sat in the produce drawer.
Steve barked out a laugh, head shaking, when you turned your head over your shoulder to see him. His eyes pointed to the table, the empty seat that was yours waiting for you. “Stop it! Water is fine… just come to the table, please.”
You huffed defeatedly with phony annoyance, strolling to the table with nothing in hand as Steve already grabbed you both a fresh cup of cold water. He made a scene, pretending to bow as he dramatically dragged your chair out for you while you covered your face and snickered behind them. You took a seat and even let him push you in.
The both of you opt to side by side instead of face to face — it was more comfortable and special that way, even when your knees occasionally bumped under the table.
“Thanks for doing this for me,” Steve spoke suddenly, grasping your wrist and holding it gently.
He said it like you didn’t use all of his groceries and made a mess of his kitchen. Like you were doing him a favor, something he didn’t deserve, when all you wanted to do was show him how much he deserved all the special moments of life, even homemade breakfast.
You grinned timidly, swinging your head as your other hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “It’s really no problem. You did let me spend the night and take your bed.”
His face fell with feign skepticism. “Technically, we shared,” he countered with a lifted brow.
You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue. “Okay, yeah, but still! I wanted to do this…really really wanted to do this for you.”
Steve could read between the lines, understanding where you were getting at without actually saying it.
How yesterday the mental spiral had taken a toll on him even after you promised you would spend the night at his. He was particularly quiet, keeping to himself and not having the energy to do much talking, but you didn’t mind, frequently turning to him and offering a comforting glimpse, rubbing a tender hand over his shoulder to ease his nerves.
You didn’t make him feel like there was something wrong with him or try to force him into the conversations when he didn’t want to. Instead, you let him be and made it clear that everything was alright. That you would be there when he felt lost and scared, even if he striked out and had to crawl back home.
He shouldn’t have turned the night he was anticipating into a long road of catastrophic blues. The words the kids had said without thinking should’ve bounced off of him like nothing. But instead he spent the night beside you wondering if how he was feeling was a mistake, if it was really all in his head the way he thought it was, or maybe how wrong and selfish it was to ask you to stay the night.
The whirlwind of uncertainty floating away when you grabbed his hand from under the table and gave it three squeezes when no one was paying attention. It was then and there that he knew you didn’t have any plans to leave… at least not without him.
All of that was true, seeing as though you were here in front of him.
He smiled kindly, eyes full of gratitude for you taking the time to do this for him even if it meant you missed out a few more minutes of sleep. Soon he’d find a way to make it up to you, but he wasn’t quite sure if anything he did would top this.
The two of you plated yourselves some food, digging in and enjoying one another’s presence in the early morning air that enveloped you both. And as per usual, Steve wasn’t subtle when it came to something you’ve made yourself. His fork clinked against the plate after he took a bite of the pancakes, throwing his head back on the chair and moaning loudly as he chewed.
“You’re a dork!” You chided, shaking your head as you laughed and slapped a hand over your mouth.
His head lifted up slightly, patting his bare stomach and giving it a rub. “That’s incredible, you’ve gotta trademark that or something.”
“I don’t think I could trademark food, can I?” Your eyes narrowed, thinking if that was a possibility because it didn’t sound bad.
He shrugged, sitting up straight and cutting himself another piece. “No clue, but you should try it. This is better than the boxed stuff,” he said, popping the fork into his mouth.
“It’s not too tricky, I could teach you how to make the batter from scratch next time?” You offered with a warm smile, eyes showing how genuine you really were about it.
He smiled tightly, nodding his head and speaking with a half full mouth making you grin. “I’d keep the recipe a secret… promise.”
Like something alike, you wanted to keep him a secret, and you’d be his if he let you.
But it would be a shame for either of you to be each other’s secret. Neither of you wanted to hide the other away from the world — far from that, actually.
He’d shout it from the rooftops and you’d paint it in the skyline — how special you both were to each other even after this short time. Have you both known each other for twenty seconds or twenty years?
Neither of you knew nor did you care because all that mattered was the lifetime you wanted to spend together like this. How this morning and last night felt so easy, as if you’ve spent the night in each other’s arms and woke up in them in some past life before.
Time was funny, but you and Steve never minded, not when this kind of feeling was soaring through your systems at an alarming pace.
The table was quiet for a few minutes, just the forks running against the ceramic and tolerable chewing. The two of you were stealing glances at each other when he was too busy spooning yogurt into his mouth and when you stared out the window watching the birds fly by.
Steve dredged his fingers clean, propping his elbow on the table as he watched you pick up the ice cold glass of water and finally tear your eyes away from the window to catch him. 
“How do you like Joyce and Hop?” He proposed, not getting the chance to ask you last night before you both went to bed. 
You gulped down the water, eyes lighting up. “Oh, they’re wonderful! They were really welcoming and made me feel right at home.”
He wasn’t surprised at all; he knew they’d love you and you’d love them — Hop and Joyce practically talked your ear off and you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, grateful that they were keen on getting to know you better without making you feel like you were being interrogated. 
“Hopper didn’t bore you with his do-it-yourself kitchen renovation stories?” He questioned with a chuckle, reliving the vile conversation that came up during the dinner.
You scrunched your nose, catching his drift right away and your shoulders shuddering a bit. “I could’ve gone without knowing he found a huge rat in the walls, but at least now I know if I need an exterminator I could give him a call.”
“Trust me, he would have way too much fun going around and looking for things to fix.” He warned with no actual malice, just preparing you for the dad-mode Hop would be in if the occasion ever arose.
You snapped your finger as if you remembered something.
“Like the lock Max picked! It was pretty impressive, but I think it’s also a major safety issue.” Your voice falling with the realization.
He furrowed his brows, dropping his chin from his fists, face painted with worry and confusion. “Wait, Max picked your lock? When was this?”
“Oh, Robin didn’t tell you?” he shook his head, watching you sit up, “they stopped by that morning after you left and I guess I forgot to set my alarm and they were waiting outside in the hot sun so Max picked the lock to get in.” 
You revealed the situation like it was totally normal for them to be breaking and entering. Meanwhile, Steve’s head was whirling with fear at how easy your lock must have been to pick if they managed to get in even after he was sure he locked it from the inside before he left.
He would definitely tell you later to get the locks changed for safety purposes. 
Steve let out an exasperated sigh, letting his shoulders slump with disappointment. “I swore I told her to stop doing that.”
You lifted your brow suspiciously. “Did she pick your lock?”
“Worse.” He groaned, pinching his eyes shut at the memory from a few months ago. “She picked the lock to the arcade just after closing so she could beat Dustin’s high score on Dig Dug.”
You gasped, eyes widened slightly, and a laugh caught midway through your chest. “Did she get caught?” You asked partly stifled, not believing she could actually get away with it. 
But he shook his head, further surprising you and somehow your eyes got larger, watching as he mimed her actions.
“She went to the back room and deleted the security camera footage before leaving. That’s when Robin and I closed up Family Video and caught her trying to leave out the backdoor.”
“What happened after?” You leaned in closer, waiting for the continuation of the story.
He lifted his hand in a dismissive manner, lips pursing accompanied with a playful tone in his voice, “Oh you know, classic lecture and threats of taking her to Hopper—”
You didn’t look convinced, narrowing your eyes. “She wasn’t scared at all was she?”
“Not one bit,” he deadpanned before smiling defeatedly, “she asked me to give her a ride home and gave Robin a stuffed animal she stole from the backroom.”
“You know she could make a stealthy spy.” You pointed your fork at him before stabbing a piece of apple on its prongs.
He crossed his arms across his chest and sneered, “Oh trust me, she does enough snooping… alllll of the kids do.”
“But they’re all really sweet. They probably all have good intentions and just might have questionable ways of going about it.”
He knew you were right, and yesterday was a prime example of that.
The kids meant well just trying to get him to finally fess up his feelings that had been harboring since the moment he laid eyes on you. Their goal was never to send Steve into such a mental spiral that it caused him to combust internally and detach for the rest of the night. It would be unfair of him to ever think that of them because it was far from what they were.
They all were good kids, cared about each other and wanted the best for everyone they loved, especially him. They all knew how much Steve sacrificed for them, plenty of times of almost getting fired for giving out free ice cream and letting them off the hook for returning their tapes late.
It was about time that they helped Steve in the only way they knew how, which was trying to encourage him to make a move on the girl of his dreams, and they had no idea it would have ended up like that.
He felt like an asshole for the way he acted towards them. They were young and just wanted to see him happy, but instead they saw him moody and petulant.
You didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over, sitting stiffly in the dining chair instead of the relaxed way he was just moments ago. You reached out a hand, setting it on his forearm and letting it move and up and down.
“Are you okay, Stevie?”
He blinked, instantly melting back into the relaxed state once your touch was on his. A half smile quirking up on the corner of his lips, thankful for your concern and quickness.
“Thought I told you not to worry about me?”
Your concern faded slightly, a warm glint in your eye now. “Thought I told you I would, anyway.”
“I’m never gonna win, am I?” He frowned sarcastically, watching as your hand fell back to the table.
“Nope! Now, what’s on your mind?” You ordered, shifting your body to face him fully with your knees settling against his.
You looked determined to figure it out and try to help him. To get into his mind and kick those worries away. Your elbows resting on your thighs as you kept your eyes on him, patiently waiting until he was ready.
He ran a rough palm over his face, wriggling his shoulders. “Just thinking about how stupid I acted at the party last night. Felt like a ghost with how quiet I was.”
“You didn’t act stupid at all,” your voice filled with confidence while you shook your head, “you just needed a little break and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I felt like an asshole.” His voice trailed off with annoyance with himself. 
“Don’t say that,” you pouted, poking his chest with a disapproving look on your face. “You’re not an asshole.”
He always found it endearing, your ability to always see the best in him, even when he knew he wasn’t at his best. Usually Steve’s always upbeat when it came to the friends and the kids, he’s known to be the friendliest of them all, but last night he felt far from that. As if he was the stranger sitting at the table lost in his own thoughts. 
“You sure?” He asked like you’d ever lie to make him feel better. 
You chuckled, nodding undoubtedly. “I’ve encountered a few assholes in my life and you’re waaaay off from one. You’re like the most non-asshole guy I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah?” This time a twinge of playfulness came with the question.
Nodding obviously, you leaned closer to him, your face hanging only inches away from his.
“A guy who memorizes a girl’s coffee order and picks up her favorite pastries when she’s far from a morning person?” Your lips curled into a smile. “I’m positive you’re not an asshole.”
Like a force of habit, his palm cradled your cheek, while you continued to stare up at him like he hadn’t been thinking so horribly about himself just moments ago. He was getting lost in your eyes; the ones filled with so much devotion and softness for the moment and how even this is enough for him.
“What if I just so happened to steal that cronut recipe?” He mumbled just clear enough for you to hear. 
You pushed back against his touch, cheek rising suspiciously in the palm of his hand. “Why? Are you hiding it from me? Because if you are, then that’s cruel!”
A dimpled smile broke out on his face, closing his eyes blissfully and swinging his head no. There’s laughter erupting from you and he could feel it in the way the apple of your cheeks leaped against his palm. You didn’t shy away from his hand, letting yourself stick to him like the sweetest honey, and he didn’t care about the mess. 
The real mess was whatever was in your systems.
He finally spoke. “No, but I know a stealthy spy who could help me break in and get it.”
You rolled your eyes, tongue in cheek. “You’re trouble, Harrington.”
The pulse point on his wrists felt your lips before he could comprehend what was happening. Your plush skin grazing his skin lightly, a kind of kiss that felt electrifying even when it wasn’t upon his own lips. It’s innocent yet still all around tantalizing, the urge to tell you that he’s crazy for you on the tip of this tongue more than ever now. 
He was sure before that he’d go through all the trouble if it meant making you happy, but now he’s positive he’d even break into a family-owned establishment to get you that secret recipe – and most importantly, to feel you like this every morning. 
His pulse was undeniably thumping against your lips, though you didn’t mind, letting them stay for a minute until the phone abruptly rang and you were tearing away from his hold, ripping yourself from him like a bandaid that took the skin with it. His wrist began to feel lonely, pulse feeling like it’s dying out not having you there anymore.
To your surprise, you weren’t feeling at all embarrassed, simply just giddy as he cursed apologetically and let his hand fall into his lap as he got up. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be right here!” You vowed, tipping your head back to watch as he left the kitchen.
It was only seven in the morning and he never got calls this early. Ever. Unless it was the kids. 
“Hello,” he answered, pressing the hunk of plastic to his ear. 
“Hey, kid,” it was Hopper, “how are, umm, you and the girl?” 
Steve peeked back into the kitchen, seeing you finishing up the rest of the cut up fruit. “We’re having breakfast right now. What’s up?”
“Honey! They’re already having breakfast!” Hop called out, sound a bit far away. 
“Crap!” Joyce wailed out in the background. 
Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry. If you would’ve called half an hour ago, we’d still be in bed.”
“You guys shared the bed?” Hop inquired, his voice accusing and curious at the same time.
“Well… yeah.” Steve didn’t have any reason to lie, but he was regretting it the second it left his mouth.
“Soooo… s’that why you both left early yesterday?” Hop suggested, sounding more interested in conversing now. 
Steve turned away from the adjoining wall, cupping his hand over the receiver as he spoke sharply. “What? No! We left early because I was crabby and she was getting tired.”
A puff of air came from the other end, Hoppers laugh heavy. “You know you don’t have to lie—”
“Oh my god, I’m hanging up, now.” Steve’s fingers were ready to press the hook switch to end the call. 
“Tell your girl I checked her tire pressure and added some air into her back left wheel, thing was nearly deflated.” 
“Yeah okay, appreciate it. We’ll be there in a few.” 
There’s talking in the background, he could hear Joyce saying something and Hopper attempting to cut her off with ‘yeah’s’ and ‘got' it’s.’
“And Joyce says she’ll save some breakfast sandwiches.” Hop grumbles.
“Okay, thanks, bye.” Steve said rushed, pulling the phone away from his ear.
He placed the phone back onto the rest, shaking his head a bit at the teasing he often faced from Hopper, but it was all in good fun. At times, he felt that Hop and Joyce were more like parents to him than his own. Hell, they knew more about his life than his parents ever did. 
“Who was that?”
He took a seat beside you again. “Hop. I think Joyce made him call to ask if we wanted some breakfast.”
“Oh no, I hope she didn’t go through too much trouble.”
Steve shook his head, reassuring you. “She said she’d save us breakfast sandwiches for when we go and get your car.”
“That’s sweet of her.” You bubble, a smile replacing how apologetic you feel for missing out on her breakfast.
“And Hop said to tell you he checked your tire pressure and filled the back left one up with air.” Steve informed you, watching the way your eyes filled with appreciation and surprise.
“Oh my god, he’s the best! How much do I owe him?”
You’re a lot of things — talented, kind, beautiful, all around down to Earth, but you don’t know much about cars and he doesn’t blame you because they’re boring, but he now realized he can never let you walk into an auto shop alone and let you be victim to those premium air scams.
“Nothing, sweetheart. The air is free, and he just uses a special machine to fill it up.”
“But it must have taken him forever.” You protest with a deep breath, determination behind your voice like you’re sure of it and you want to compensate the old guy.
Steve’s face softened, moving over to clutch your hand and give it a squeeze. “He takes longer to pick up donuts and head into work. Filling up tires is easy peasy for him, I promise you.”
“You sure?” You bit your lip still feeling a bit bad for Hop going out of his way.
He nodded, giving your hand another squeeze. “Positive.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Just curious as to why we left early last night. Told him I was crabby, and you were getting sleepy.”
“I wasn’t that tired.” You mumbled.
Steve scoffed, forehead creasing up because you clearly didn’t see yourself how he saw you last night. “Sweetheart, your eyes drooping on the drive home.”
“No, they weren’t!” You half-laughed in defense, palms resting on the table. 
“You fell asleep so quickly last night.” He pointed, roaring at the way you gave in and blushed. 
“I was just really comfortable.” You whined, lifting your eyes away from his in an attempt to stop yourself from looking like a dork. 
“Yeah, you looked super comfortable. You were even snoring a little.”
You shrieked, a small scream coming from your throat and hands covering your face. “Was I?” God, that’s embarrassing!”
He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, working them away from your face without any resistance. Your eyes met with his smile and headshake. “No, it was cute! You’re just lucky you fell asleep first because had you not my snoring would’ve kept you up.”
“I think I’d be able to fall asleep either way. It was so comfy.”
What you really meant to say was that he’s comfy — practically was your space heater and human pillow. You would be a liar if you didn’t think that you were a bit too clingy last night, but he didn’t seem to mind from what you remembered and it felt nice not having to apologize for that. You know Steve would’ve told you if he didn’t like it; he was always honest with you. 
“Would it be okay if I had another shower before we leave?” You watched him stack the plates, getting up and walking them over to the sink. 
“Course! Go and I’ll take care of the dishes.” He replied, taking the bowls you had stacked from your hands. 
You willingly handed them over, following him to the counters. “No, c’mon let me dry and you can wash,” attempting to reach into the drawers to retrieve a clean kitchen towel.
But he blocked you, keeping his hip attached to the wood. “No, go on and shower. I’m not moving till your butt is walking upstairs.”
You both knew he wouldn’t relent, not like the first time you’d stepped into his home and insisted you helped gather plates and cutlery. Things were different now, with time grew comfortability, but also playfulness and ease.
“Fine!” you fussed, trudging away dramatically. 
“Did you need to borrow clothes?” He called out, arms folded over his chest as he watched you.
You halted near the doorway, spinning and wrapping your arms round the frame, smiling stupidly at him. “Please? I would use my clothes, but they still smell like charcoal.”
“Pick whatever you want, and leave the dirty ones in the hamper. I’ll do a load before we leave.”
“Thanks! You’re the best!” You singsonged, making your way up the stairs leaving him with the biggest love sick smile on his face.
The Harrington house has never felt this homey and for Steve it’s a feeling that he never wants to fleet. His fists running under lukewarm water scrubbing dishes that weren’t only used by him but by someone whom he wanted to stay with. The lip print you had left around the cusp of the glass, suds away, and he wondered when was the next time you’d be coming around. 
Clean dishes pile onto the kitchen rag you laid out before you went to shower. He decided to let them air dry instead, making better use of his time by heading upstairs and grabbing the hamper of dirty laundry filled with both yours and his clothes.
Strolling down the hallway, he heard the sound of the running water in the shower accompanied by your hums to a tune he couldn’t pick up from behind the wooden door. Though it doesn’t fail to make him smile, pleased that you felt so comfortable at his place already. Turning into his bedroom, he fetched the laundry basket, twisting back around to head downstairs towards the washing machine. 
Steve had never put much thought into actually taking the time to do separate loads of laundry, honestly just sticking everything in one wash and throwing them in the dryer as any other person would do. He was guilty, a few times some of his white t-shirts would dye a bright green from his work vest but they were replaceable.
It’s only then when your clothes are in his care that he takes the time to read the labels to make sure he’s washing them properly. Your floral long sleeve, safe to wash along with the rest of the other garments. But he doesn’t risk it with the denim overalls, deciding that it’s best for them to have its own cycle to prevent it from fading too much and wearing the material down.
A hefty scoop of detergent goes in with the wash before he clicks start, and the whirling begins.
Your fingers reached for the lotion bottle that sat on his bathroom counter, pumping a dollop into your palm and spreading it across your damp skin. Though it’s unscented, it still smelled like Steve, a hint of him layering itself over the body wash you just used in his shower a moment ago. When the two are paired together, it’s a reminder that you didn’t wash away his touch from last night or this morning, but now you felt like you were reapplying it like a second layer of skin.
You worked the tan buttons that lined the front placket through the buttonholes, leaving the first two undone for a more casual feel, letting it droop down one of your shoulders. Another pair of his boxer shorts, this time light blue colored, rolled up over your hips to fit snuggly.
Running your hands down your sides, you took a deep breath in the mirror, satisfied with the way you looked despite the slouchy fit to the oversized garments. You liked the way you looked in Steve's clothes, no matter how baggy they were on you. 
“Let me fix…this,” you complained to yourself, motioning around your head before tugging your hair out of the bun and letting it fall down your back.
Your fingers worked through the roots, giving them a bit of volume while the other brushed the ends, untangling some of the knots. You sectioned your hair in half, keeping the top half in a little bun in the back of your head while the bottom half flowed down nicely.
Grabbing your damp towel off the counter, you hung it on the rack before hitting the light switch off and opening the door.
“Oops, sorry!” You yelped, running smack dab into Steve’s side as he walked by.
He tsked at himself, immediately stabilizing you by the shoulders. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he paused, the two of you laughing now before he looked down and realized what you were wearing. “Woah, you look nice.”
Your fingers played with the sleeves that nearly covered your palms, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hope you don’t mind. It looked nice.”
Steve shook his head, shamelessly admiring the way it looked on you. He hasn’t worn the button down in a few weeks, forgetting it was even in his closet, but glad you found it and picked it out for yourself. 
“Looks better on you.” His hands rubbed up and down the sleeves before nodding his head towards his bedroom where you followed. 
He headed for his closet, pulling the accordion doors open while you plopped down comfortably onto his neatly made bed, shifting onto your stomach as you observed him. 
“Got any idea on what I should wear?” 
“Dark jeans? Maybe some Nikes?” You suggested, propping your chin up on your arms.
“Nude top half?” He said, and you could feel the smirk in his voice.
You snorted. “Shut up. You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”
He plucked some pieces off the hangers, shutting the doors before turning to you. “Just teasing. I’ll be quick and then we’ll be out of here.”
“Take your time…do you mind if I sketch?” 
You looked towards his desk, eyeing the yellow notepad that sat on top of the rest of his belongings. He nodded, walking up to it and grabbing a pen and pencil and handing them to you. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you!” You took it from him, getting to work as he walked across the hall. 
You didn’t take yourself seriously with the sketch, drawing up whatever you had in your head. It’s what you had woken up to that morning—Steve’s arm slung across your stomach with his face in the crook of your neck. Snores and breaths greeting your skin in the purest kind of way, even if it had gotten you up a little earlier. 
You wished you had a polaroid around to capture the scene, but thankfully your photographic memory wouldn’t ever let you forget it. Such a sight to see the sun peeking in through the cracks of the curtains, spilling a beautiful glow over his back that made each and every single one of his beauty marks stand out – now you were positive you knew where each other was. 
He looked at peace, face no longer sulked and somber like it had been the night prior. The crease between his brow ironed out, not a glimmer of anxiety as he dreamed…if only you could convince him to stay right there forever because you didn’t want to share. 
“Ready?”
Losing track of time when you were lost within the pen and paper wasn’t abnormal, but being pulled out of the trance by a beautiful boy was something new. You peered up from the page, breath hitched as you took all of him in.
A color block polo — dark blue to compliment the wash of his jeans and cream in the center. You liked to think he was matching you in a way. 
“You look really good.” You complimented with a tight smile, capping the pen and rolling off of your stomach. 
“You picked it so thank you.” 
He turned to his drawers, pulling them open to get a clean pair of socks. Unbeknownst to him, you ripped the sketch off the pad, folding it and slipping it under one of the corners of his landline, just enough of it peeking out for him to find later.
You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving yourself a one over in the hanging mirror before Steve finally shut the drawer and turned back to you. 
“The wash isn’t done yet?” He said, letting you walk in front before he closed his door behind him. 
You hummed out a no, listening closely to hear the slight rumbling of the machine. “I can still hear it running.”
You both stopped at the front door, Steve leaning against the wall as he slipped his socks on and pushed them into his Nikes. Undoing the laces, he knotted them tighter, pulling the strings taut.
“I’ll pop them in the dryer when I get home and give you your stuff the next time I see you?”
“That’s perfect, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon.” You assured him, bending down as you strapped your sandals on. 
He waited until you were ready, opening the front door for you and then reaching into his pockets for the keys. With your back facing him, you looked out on his driveway, seeing how the shiny red hood reflected the sunlight. It was practically spotless, not even a smidge of dirt across his front bumper — he must have really adored his car. 
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how nice your car is.” 
“You know she used to be cleaner before the kids started eating and leaving their crumbs behind.” He told you, his fingers twisted the front door to make sure it was locked, which it was. 
“They’ve got you wrapped around their pinkies.” You nudged him as you walked down his driveway. 
He wiggled the keys in the air. “Wanna give it a drive?”
“HA! You’re so funny.”
“No, I’m serious.” He added, placing the keys in your hands and closing your fingers around them. 
“You’re gonna let me drive your fancy car?” 
He laughed comically, unsure why it seemed so out of this world to you that he would let you drive his car. You’re probably the only person Steve trusted to drive it. You’re responsible, and unlike Eddie, he knows you won’t try to race the other cars on the road. 
“You’ve got your license, which means you know how to operate a car. Fancy or not.” 
“You sure?” You sought again skeptically, giving him one last chance to back out. 
“I trust you. Now c’mon, I’ll give you directions and everything and this time you won’t get lost.” He assured you, walking over to the driver’s side holding the door open for you. 
“You put way too much trust in me, Steve.” You puffed with a weak laugh, walking over to get in.
“Actually, just the right amount.” He patted the top of the hood before shutting the door. 
He held his hands out for your purse, resting it in his lap as you began adjusting the seat and mirrors to your liking. Steve reminded you that it was okay to adjust it as much as you needed, that he would be able to fix it all back to normal later. Before you knew it, you were on the road, driving in probably the nicest car you’ve ever driven in your life while the radio played and Steve gave you directions to Joyce and Hop’s.
“And ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived…alive!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, announcing it with a deep voice as you giggled. 
“Stop it!” You placed the car into park before nudging his shoulder with a feeble fist.
His hands let up, looking in your direction with a small smile showing up. “I knew you’d do good.”
 “Got my half broken down piece of crap to thank.” You joked, jutting your chin to your less than adorned car parked beside his.
“You know Eddie’s uncle knows a thing or two about cars? Maybe he could check it out one day?”
“Oh my god, please?”
“I’ll call Eds today and see what Wayne can do.” 
“You’re amazing.” 
Steve felt like he’d been reduced to a fit of smiles and sore cheeks all morning, taking in your compliments and passing them back to you. He’s used to people thanking him, but never for the bare minimum parts he promises you he’ll never break. It’s something he could get acquainted with, and he hoped it would never end. 
Within his peripheral vision, he could see the family begin to crowd the porch, watching through the windshield. “Looks like we’ve got a crowd.” 
“I’m not surprised.” You retorted, making the first move to remove the key from the ignition and open the door. 
“Morning!” You hailed out loud, tossing the keys over to Steve as he locked it up. 
“You let her drive your car!” El exclaimed, though you were both pretty sure she meant it as a question. 
“Mhm, she’s horrible, a menace to society. You should arrest her right now, Hop.” Steve answered seriously, patting Hop on the behind with a growing smirk. 
“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, waking over to give the kids and Jonathan a hug. 
“Had a fun night?” Hop urged, leaning against the post. 
You nodded, looking up at Steve. “More like relaxing… Steve’s shower pressure is perfect, better than the one I have at home.” You informed them, missing the smirks that fell on Hop and Jonathan’s faces. 
Hop stuck his hand out, pushing at Steve’s shoulder roughly. “Oh, I’m sure Steve has the right amount of pressure somewhere else—”
Joyce erupted with a loud cough, picking up your attention and catching her stomp on his foot in the process, while he winced, cursing under his breath.
“Inside!” She blurted, clearing her throat and gesturing to the front door, "I’m gonna give you the dish you brought inside! I just washed and dried it a little while ago.”
“Oh, okay!”
The spectators on the front porch waited until you were out of reach to start talking about what was going through their minds since you and Steve left last night. It was a short goodbye; you thanking Joyce and Hop for having you over and giving everyone else a hug while Steve waited by until you were done. Safe to say, once you both drove off, they all speculated on what was going to happen and why you were really spending the night at his.
“You’re disgusting, dad.” Will scowled, shaking his head with revulsion. 
Hopper ignored him, looking over at Steve. “She’s wearing your clothes.”
“Okay and?” Steve said, looking a little annoyed at how anyone was crediting him for the truth. 
“You two had sex.” He declared flatly, a grin tugging up on his lips as the porch exploded with grunts and obscenities to shut up. 
“Oh, my god!” Jonathan choked on his spit, turning away and laughing.  
“Gross!” El yelped, covering her tomato red face. 
“I think I’m gonna barf.” Will declared, dramatically clutching his stomach. 
Steve rolled his eyes at their ignorance, arms crossing over his chest. “Believe it or not, I don’t need to have sex with her to have a good night.”
“Wow, isn’t that the first?” Jonathan bantered with a satirical inflection in his tone. 
“Is that a hickey on your neck?” Steve narrowed his eyes, pointed at the purple bruise hiding behind his messy hair. 
“I’m definitely gonna throw up.” Will gagged, turning away and covering his mouth.
El frowned, looking down at her chipped nails. “Is that why Nancy didn’t want to paint my nails last night?”
Hop looked between the youngest and the oldest. “I thought she left with Robin after the barbecue.”
“Oh my god, this isn’t about me!” Jonathan stammered, slapping a hand behind his ear to hide the love bite. 
“What happened?” You buzzed, strolling back out to the porch with the glass bowl in hand and Joyce beside you.
Steve grinned wickedly, happy that he got them off his back, turning to Jonathan and smacking him over the head lightly. “Nothing, just teasing him.”
“Speaking of, Jonathan, don’t you need to give her something?” Joyce’s eyes darted to the back of his pocket where the flyer was folded up. 
He reached behind him, passing it over to you, Steve taking the bowl from your hands so that you could unfold it and read its contents. A bright graphic announcement of a farmer’s market that would be hosted in Hawkins next weekend. 
“Nance meant to give it to you last night, but she forgot,” Jonathan began, “We’re trying to get the town rallying behind small business before they all get driven out. She was wondering if you wanted to help out and host a booth.”
“Like a bake sale?” You proposed. 
He shrugged, looking over at his brother for some guidance. “Kinda, but she was thinking of it as a bake sale and art sale combined.”
Will chimed in without missing a beat. “I pitched the idea to Nance, and she seemed to really like it. I could help you manage the booth. I’ll take the art side and you can handle the baked goods, then we switch around the halfway mark.”
“That’s genius.” You grinned, reaching back to rubbing his shoulder proudly. 
“No really, you guys should do it.” Steve supported from behind you knowing that you would be great at something like this. 
El let out a gasp, clutching your shoulder lightly as she wedged herself between you and Steve. “I can help with the money! I’m getting better at counting change!” She spoke bubbly, making you and him laugh.
“Nancy’s covering the whole thing and writing a paper about it. She’s really hoping to get it published.”
You’d help out either way knowing that this was an important cause, but hearing about how Nancy was the leader of this whole thing made you want to help even more. She was so passionate when talking to you about her love for writing and keeping these mom-and-pops in her town up and running — you were definitely in. 
“Well, tell her I’d be happy to help!” You replied warmly, folding up the paper and sticking it in your purse. 
“Great! I’ll let her know!”
You twisted your head, looking over at Hop. “Oh! And thank you for filling up the tire!” 
“No problem, kid.”
“It didn’t take you long, no?” 
“Easy as could be.” The older man assured you with his tongue clicking. 
“Told ya.” Steve smirked, pressing his elbow gently into your side, making you giggle. 
The two of you didn’t notice how the family was watching the way you and Steve interacted like a couple, so oblivious to the small touches and teasing that usually never came with everyone else. It was the kids who stepped forward, breaking up the love dove fest between the both of you. Will slung his arm over Steve’s shoulder and El rested her chin on his shoulder with those puppy eyes that the babysitter could not say no to, even after the meltdown last night. 
“Steve, could you give us a ride to the arcade? Lucas and Max are already there.”
Steve scoffed, glancing over at the other adults around. “You’ve got your parents and your brother here who all have licenses you know.”
“Hop and I are gonna go run errands!” Joyce clapped her hands, gawking up at Hop who snapped out of it and nodded agreeingly.
“Gotta go see Nancy.” Jonathan tried to excuse himself.
It was no use. Steve was ultimately the go-to chauffeur, the best and safest driver who wouldn’t only take them to point A and B, but stayed until they were ready to go back home and occasionally gave them spare change when they ran out. 
“Go get changed.” Steve exhaled, utterly defeated.
El and Will cheered, detaching themselves from his sides before engulfing you in a quick, yet tight hug. “Bye! We’ll see you!” They said before rushing inside. 
“Bye-bye, kiddos.”
Steve looked over at you, tilting his head towards your car. “C’mon, I’ll walk you.” 
You nodded, twiddling your fingers at Jonathan and his parents. “Bye guys, thanks again!”
“See ya sweetie.”
Steve stepped a bit ahead of you, opening the driver door when you clicked the fob before moving towards the back seat and putting the dishware on the empty seats. You waited until he shut the door before reaching up and wrapping him up in a hug. 
Your bodies molded together, like they’ve done times before, holding one another properly like it was routine by now. His face in the crook of your neck while you tiptoed and rested your forehead under his jaw. 
“Drive home safe okay?” He squeezed your back, feeling the skin indent through the garment. 
“I will.” You promised, taking a deep breath of him in, savoring everything right now. 
“Thank you.”
“Don’t let anyone beat Max’s high score on Dig Dug.” You spoke half jokingly. 
“I’ll try.” He huffed out against your neck 
“Tell me about it later.”
He gave your back one last gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss to your temple before he released you and let you get into the front seat. You hadn’t made the move to close the door yet, just settling in by placing your bag on the passenger seat and twisting on the ignition.
“You still have a full tank?” Steve peered a ways bit in, his focus on the arrow on your dashboard. He got a glimpse of the red light that switched on, making a mental note to bring it up to Eddie later today.
You took a peek, nodding and looking up to meet his gaze. “A little more than half. I should be okay for the drive home.”
“Okay, sorry, just wanted to make sure. Didn’t want you running out on the highway.” He apologized sheepishly, raking a hand through his hair. 
“No, it’s alright, it was sweet.” You giggled, moving up to tuck a stray piece of hair away from his eyes. 
He gulped, your hand still trying to place the piece with his roots. “See you in a few days?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding your head, “a few days.” You agreed, fingertips finally trailing over his cheek and jaw before falling back into your lap. 
“O-okay… great, awesome, get home safe.” He sputtered slightly, eyes still holding yours. 
“You too! Oh, and Steve?” You stopped him from moving away from your car, though he wasn’t making plans to, anyway.
“Yeah?”
“I might have left something on your desk, but you can just check it out later okay?”
“Something important? I can drive down and get it real quick?”
You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I mean yeah, it’s important, but not that important… well I kinda hope that it is important, to you I mean — sorry, am I rambling?”
“Not at all.” He said, biting back a chuckle. 
“Just…just check it out when you get home okay?” You asked, voice fluttering with desperation like you needed him to find it. 
“Promise.”
You took a deep breath in, smiling wistfully and feeling your chest tighten having to say goodbye. “See ya, Steve.”
“I’ll see you, cupcake.” He assured you, tapping the hood of your car and shutting your door gently.
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It’s been hours since this morning. The day slowly dwindled into night by the time Steve parked his car in the driveway and unlocked the front door. He was only able to pop in for a few minutes before he brought the kids to the arcade, throwing the clean laundry into the dryer and saving your overalls for when he got home. Slipping his shoes off, he made a beeline to the laundry room, tossing the denim material into the machine before emptying the dryer and taking the basket with him.
“Fuck,” He spat, stubbing his toe near his desk in the darkness before clicking on the lamp for a little bit of light.
He dropped the basket onto the floor, making plans to fold and put them all away before he went to bed. But eyes caught the bright yellow paper tucked under his home phone, crimped into fourths with his name written in a heart on it.
It was you who left it and he knew it. His hand springing forward and nearly toppling the phone off the desk all together as he seized it and swiftly opened it up without ripping.
A sketch of you and him in bed. You’re lying awake, facing towards him with your hands resting on his arm that’s sprawled over your stomach. His face is partly hidden in your neck, yet you’ve detailed everything like the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw. Even the freckles that litter his skin are dotted in the blank ink. Glimmers of sunlight created with the gray graphite along with the creases of the bed sheets covering the bottom half of your bodies.
Even for a sketch, he knows this is unreal, the talent you have, insane for drawing this up in the matter of his fifteen minute shower. He should have been looking at himself, appreciating how much thought you put in to making sure it looked exactly like him, yet he’s looking at you.
How you’ve drawn your face with somehow all the emotions that he can feel through this piece of paper. That while he was asleep dreaming of you, you were awake watching him. It’s intimate, like you’ve let him know what you’ve both been feeling all this time and finally confessed.
In the prettiest and neatest handwriting he’d ever seen, you had left a message in the blank corner.
‘You look pretty when you’re sleeping, Stevie. Not gonna forget like an idiot this time… xxx-xxx-xxxx.’
Steve had never picked up the phone and dialed so speedily that he had to hang up and redial, totally messing up and pressing the wrong numbers the first time.
It’s been hours since you departed Hawkins. The drive back to Roane was uneventful but still smooth, hitting no traffic and even crunching enough time to stop by the diner to say hello to Dorothea and catch her up on life.
You had spent the rest of the day fueled with energy and anticipation. The second you walked into your apartment you felt a spark of motivation. Something calling you back to the piece you had abandoned only 24 hours ago. Now you had a clear mind and no thoughts of feeling like the sketch looked like garbage — even if it was a flicker of false inspiration, you’d take it.
Half of the sketch had already been painted by the late afternoon. Different shades of browns you had mixed together for the golden crust of the pie as well as the lattice design you had freehanded. Only parts of the cherry filling had been painted with a red too red for your liking, but you’d go back in tomorrow to refine it instead of beating yourself up then and forgetting about the progress you had made.
You were trying to be nicer to yourself.
Little progress still meant progress, and that was the one thing that mattered. That finally something in your system was flowing the way you wanted it to, and part of you felt like it was Steve. Possibly his reminder echoing in the back of your head that the act of trying was literally you trying, and that in itself was good enough.
You were good enough and the progress you made was good enough.
Breathe. Take it in. Breathe out. Take it in.
The act of you literally doing breathing exercises in front of your painting could’ve been seen as narcissistic. Maybe it was? But for you, it meant something a lot different. It was you patting yourself on the back for what you did and making mental notes of what you could’ve improved on without openly criticizing yourself so harshly.
You were so good to other people; you had to find it in yourself to be good to you. To treat you the way, you treated others — how you complimented everyone for doing their best and how you should’ve been doing the same all this time.
It was never too late to break down that old system….to grow and be better.
You had walked away from the canvas minutes ago, busy in the kitchen grabbing a little snack and figuring out what you were going to have for dinner or even if you had any energy left to make some. A hot bag of popcorn came out of the microwave and you popped open a soda, going to sit at the table for a little downtime before—
RING! RING! RING!
“Eeeek!” Squealing you nearly tripped over the coffee table, rushing towards the phone juggling your snacks as you struggled to figure out what to do first — put everything down or answer the phone. 
“Hello!” You answered nearly out of breath yet cheerfully, gasping quietly as you caught your can of Coke before it tipped over and made a mess. 
“Hey!” Steve’s voice rang through the other line, and he sounded just as delighted. 
“Steve! Hey….” you paused, catching your breath, “y-you found my sketch?”
“It’s my newest prized possession.”
“I missed you… I-I mean, I missed hearing your voice. We literally just saw each other this morning.” 
Somehow it felt easier to talk to Steve in person rather than on the phone–even if it meant he could physically see you blushing and smiling like a maniac. Yet he found it cute, how you tried to cover your tracks as if he didn’t feel the same way and could imagine what you looked like right then.
“I missed you too — you’re voice and you.” He said, making you smile wider.
“What are you up to?” You asked, getting comfortable on the floor.
“Laying in bed, still looking at the drawing while talking to you.”
“Are you sleepy?” You wondered, realizing the hour and the day he must have had.
“No! Sorry… I just didn’t want you to think I’m tired. I mean I am tired, but I’m not tired enough to not want to talk to you.” He said convincingly, though his stumbling over words made you second guess it.
“You can always sleep if you want to…we could talk tomorr—”
He cut you off with an abrupt disapproving hum. “Don’t even think about it!”
You giggled, shoulders rising and falling comfortably before you started up. “You’ll never guess what I did today!”
“Steal the cronut recipe?” He guessed without skipping a beat.
“Oh my god, no!”
“Fineee tell me.”
“I painted!” You exclaimed, voice rising higher, “like actually. really. painted. something with my own hands and I didn’t look at it and think “wow this looks like shit,” I did it!”
You sounded proud of yourself, and he hoped you were feeling that just as much on the inside. Only a week ago, you were tearing yourself apart in the diner where you sat across from him, and he could do nothing but speak encouraging and honest words to you, hoping you’d see it through the way he did.
If he was there, he’d give you the biggest hug in the world then take you out to the diner. This time he’d actually grab the bill before you could and bring more quarters so you could play an unlimited amount of love songs and dance with him until your bellies were full and your legs were tired.
You wished he was here.
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s great! What’d you paint?”
You swallowed, peering up at the canvas that was drying. “It’s uhh… it’s a surprise!”
“Surprise?” He said, literally taken by surprise.
“Yeah! So I can’t tell you.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it… maybe soon?”
“Fingers crossed.”
That was enough for him… a promise that one day, whenever it may be, he would get the chance to see it with his very own eyes instead of just hearing about it. He already knew he’d be complimenting it and you for days on end, you’d probably get sick of it, but he wouldn’t.
“You’ll never guess what happened today.” Steve began shuffling a bit on his bed to get comfortable.
You gasped, reaching for your popcorn and tossing some in your mouth. “Did Dustin beat Max’s score?”
“Worse.” He said behind a strained laugh.
“Oh god.”
“Mike did!”
You slapped your hand down on the coffee table, making him chortle on the other line, knowing you’d react like this. “Oh, my gosh! Tell. Me. Everything!”
“It’s a long one.” He warned you, hoping you had the time to give him.
You scoffed jokingly, grabbing your snacks and leaning back on the couch cushions. “I’ve got all night, Harrington.”
Your midnights. Your mornings. Your afternoons. He hoped he could have them all... he wasn't sure if it was too soon for all of that, if the idea of having them already thought up in his mind was cool or not.
But he'd just have to hope that everything... all of this, you and him.
It was delicate, but it didn't always have to be.
“Lucky me.”
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: how are we all feeling after that? i know i am kicking my feet wishing i had a steve to treat me so soft and nicely! ugh, guys this is probably my most favorite chapter i've written so far -- i really wanted this chapter to focus on domesticity and the softness between glitch reader and steve!!! my heart and soul is always alway so thankful for the wonderful effie aka @translatemunson who is always giving me feedback and helping me proof-read...i literally could not do this without her so thank you so much bby, i love you!!! 🥹💘 i really hope you all love this chapter as much as i do...isn't it just so delicate?!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @claireiscrying @we-out-here-simping @dreamerjj
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likesunsetorange · 5 months
Text
bodyguard au snippet
from what i have outlined, this would be from the first chapter, it's a little long (~2.5k words) but i wanted to include the whole scene, so hope y'all enjoy! (also unedited so don't fight me if there's any typos lol)
anyways, happy new year's and i'm super excited to share this au with y'all this year!
cw: mentions of drugging a person (mostly just the benadryl thing lol)
Eren hated the club. 
Strobe lights irritated his eyes because they always caused him migraines; the pungent aroma of alcohol and the sensation of sweat clinging to his body always made him feel disgusted; and the excess amount of people, bodies crammed against one another, was enough to make his eye twitch with rage. 
Eren shouldn’t be here. He hated the club. He would never be here out of his own volition. Especially after 3 AM, when he should be fast asleep, sinking into the four hundred thread count sheets of Mikasa’s guest room bed, Caro tucked beside him taking up half the bed like she was a human and not a dog. 
But here he was shoving through crowds of drunken bodies, his head pounding, his vision blurry, and he was almost certain he was borderline hallucinating all because of her.
Eren tried to give Mikasa the benefit of the doubt—he pitied her situation, how could he not? A life that consisted of people constantly controlling your each and every move, and here comes yet another person that your family is forcing to do just that onto you. He tried to give Mikasa her space—he only made polite small talk in passing, accompanied her to her destinations of choice from an appropriate distance, and didn’t bother her whenever it wasn’t necessary. But despite his best efforts at trying to maintain the peace, her disdain for him was evident, she didn’t bother to hide it—from the constant scowls, her constantly exasperated demeanor, and the frequent insults she threw his away under her breath (Re: Jersey trash)—but at the very least, he hoped that she could to tolerate him eventually seeing as though Eren would be living with her for the foreseeable future, and it would both of their lives easier coexisting harmoniously. 
But hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and Mikasa had made it abundantly clear that she felt she had been slighted. And even if Eren was only a pawn in her family’s doing, she wouldn’t partake in any of their little games, and if that meant Eren became collateral in the process, then so be it. 
Eren was partially to blame, he should have known better, Levi had warned him beforehand that Mikasa was not one to be trifled with, and he should’ve seen it coming from the shift from a mere displeasure by his presence to a sudden interest in his overall wellbeing.
Eren had been easily fooled by the way her usually razor-sharp steel eyes had finally looked at him with a softness he had yet to witness from her, leaving him in a little bit of a daze. The way her perfectly plush lips mouthed his name, different than anyone else ever had—the N at the end soft, almost as if she was omitting it all together. And how could he not feel the tiniest pang in his heart when her light grey eyes looked up at him with so much tenderness when she asked: “Eren, are you feeling okay?” 
Mikasa claimed she noticed his energy beginning to run low and she heard his sniffles increase over the last few days, the adjustment to the New York City air probably weighing heavy on his body—assuming it would only be a matter of days before he drew ill. And Mikasa seemed so sweet, so intensely saccharine, when she told him she’d cancel all her plans for the rest of the day, not wanting to force him out the house. 
Mikasa went the whole nine yards— ordered takeout for the two of them, even making conversation with him that was more than their usual small talk, seeming genuinely interested in Eren for once. He couldn’t help but admire her newfound amicability, hoping that at the very least they could be cordial despite her overall displeasure with the circumstances. He even found himself enjoying her presence, finally getting to take her in outside of the few glances he ever got in passing. Mikasa truly was something like no other—even in her cute pink silken pajamas, he couldn’t deny she had to be one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. But she was technically his boss, so he'd tuck those thoughts away and at least be thankful that God had taken his time to make someone like her.
Eventually, after a bit of arguing on her part, Mikasa sent him to bed with a handful of pills Eren didn’t bother to ask about the contents of, insisting he take medicine before he got any worse, even if he did feel okay. She bid him a good night and well wishes, placing a gentle caress to his arm, a soft look on her face before she even offered him an apology for how bad she had treated him over the last week. It seemed like things were finally looking up for the two of them, so Eren returned her kind looks and thanked her for all her help, going to sleep with the faintest hint of a smile on his face, lulled quickly to sleep by a medicine-induced haze despite it only being 8.
And so Eren couldn’t even be that mad—she had truly put on a class act—Mikasa had played him, and she had played him well. His mom always told him he was so easily flattered—a sucker for pretty women who bat their pretty lashes, gave him sweet smiles, and made him feel good—and Mikasa Ackerman had done so little for him to melt like putty into her hands. 
He found himself waking up in the middle of the night, almost incoherent, his vision plagued by small black spots and drenched in sweat. Eren struggled to maintain his balance as he stumbled through the house, Mikasa nowhere to be found, locating a box of Benadryl Extra Strength tucked away in one of the cabinets of Mikasa’s kitchen. Three tablets were missing, contrary to the recommended one tablet dosage, and Eren was certain that Mikasa had all the hopes those three little pills would have knocked him out for the remainder of the night.
It took all the concentration in Eren’s body, fighting against the exhaustion that plagued his body from all the medications coursing through his veins (how he managed to wake up he was still unsure) and the small black dots that danced across his vision, to try and figure out where Mikasa was. He somehow managed to log into her MacBook (her password thankfully being her birthday) and managed to track her phone to some club in SoHo. 
The anger began bubbling up within him as Hannes drove him to where Mikasa was, enraged at the fact that not only did she try and drug him, but she had put on a front, pretending to be nice, for the sole fact that she wanted to go out and party. Eren regret giving her the benefit of the doubt—Mikasa was exactly who he she showed herself to be, a spoiled rich girl who would do anything to get what she wanted.
So as Eren threaded through the crowd of people, scanning the masses for her. It was only a matter of time before he caught wind of her signature ribbon at the bar, the strobe lights making it gleam different shades of the rainbow. She turned around shortly after, his eyes meeting her gaze, her lips turning up in smugness at the sight of him before taking another sip of whatever pink concoction she had in her perfectly manicured hands, as if she was almost taunting him. Years of attending Catholic school lead Eren to have a preconceived notion that the devil was this depiction of all things evil—something that was worth cowering in fear at the sight of. After years of seeing depictions on and portrayals on TV and all the stories from myths and legends, Eren always believed the devil would be vicious and scary, but no, the devil isn’t some demon, or succubus alike.
No, the devil is 5’6”, wears shiny satin ribbons in her hair, drinks fruity pink cocktails, and sports a smile that’s so sickeningly sweet it could convince a man to do anything. And if Eren hadn’t been seething with anger, through vision that was clouded with Benadryl-induced hallucinations and scarlet colored anger, hell, he’d even say she was cute.
Eren was in front of her before he knew it, his larger figure caging her in between the bar, Mikasa looking up at him innocently, feigning on the side of ignorance to the situation.
“Hi, Eren,” she quipped, her lips still upturned, the pink of her lips sparkling under the strobe lights from whatever gloss she happened to be wearing. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” she added innocently, stirring her drink as if Eren’s presence was taking away from her fun.
Eren could feel his eye twitch, it had been so long since he had felt so angry, but it seemed as if in the week since she had met him, Mikasa had become an expert of just exactly how to get under his skin. He took a deep breath before he spoke, his jaw clenching through every word, wasting no time for her silly games. “We’re leaving, Mikasa.”
“You’re no fun, don’t you wanna stay a while? C’mon, Eren, loosen up a bit. I think you could use a break,” her free hand running along the slope of his arm. Eren could feel the chills run down his spine, but this wasn’t the time—he was angry, and he needed to focus.
“First you spend the entire week insulting me and treating me like absolute shit, then you pretend to be nice to me even bothering to give me a sorry ass apology, and then you drug me? And you couldn’t even bother to use something useful? Benadryl? Your parents are drowning in money, and you decide to knock me out with over-the-counter drugs?” His words coming out more in disbelief than in anger, his voice growing louder as he tried to speak over the music blaring through the speakers.
All Mikasa did was roll her eyes, setting her drink on the counter behind her, apparently growing bored of all her little games. “Sorry for being considerate and not drugging you with actual drugs, Eren. Next time I’ll remember to go for the hard stuff—don’t worry.”
“Glad you’re so sweet, Mikasa. I should be so thankful I have a boss as considerate as you,” he glared. “Now let’s go.”
“No,” she responded, crossing her arms, her eyes returning to the signature glare Eren had grown accustomed to over the past week.
Eren could feel the migraine settling in, the noises and lights being the starting point, and Mikasa’s failure to comply being the cherry on top. He closed his eyes and took one last breath, trying to prevent the anger from getting the best of him. Eren took one step forward, putting only a few inches in between him and Mikasa, forcing her back against the bar counter. His face was anything but amused, but Mikasa seemed to not be relenting.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Mikasa, your choice. Now let’s go,” he repeated, but Mikasa only doubled down at his words, standing firm in her place, steel eyes locking with green, her mouth pinched into a scowl.
Eren shook his head, upset about the circumstances as a whole, but also that it had come to this. With a swift movement, Eren had his arms wrapped around Mikasa’s waist, lifting her up onto her shoulder. His arms moved to secure her legs in place, her head and arms hanging behind him.
Mikasa let out a shriek as Eren made his way towards the exit a string of expletives coming out of her mouth. Bystanders watched in confusion, unsure whether or not to interfere in the pair’s altercation. Eren simply waved off their concerned looks, mouthing She’s drunk, to which most people nodded in understanding and resumed their drinking and dancing.
“You fucking jackass—let me go!” Mikasa yelled from above him, squirming in his tight grip as he approached the club exit. “Plus I need my fucking coat it’s fucking freezing outside!” 
“Should’ve thought about that before you fucking drugged me. And tough shit, you have daddy’s credit card, just buy yourself a new one, princess.”
Eren readjusted her on his shoulder, his grip only tightening through Mikasa’s attempted escapes. He gave the bouncer a nod as he walked out, the man apparently unphased by Mikasa’s antics. “I swear to God, Eren. Put—” Hit. “Me—” Hit. “Down—” A final blow. 
He winced in pain as Mikasa’s small hands threw punch after punch against his back, her hits stronger than he could have anticipated. But Eren could see the car, only fifty feet away, and he wasn’t willing to let her win, at least not this round.
“What did we learn today? We don’t do what? C’mon Mikasa, enlighten me. Please,” he replied, ignoring her requests, and pretending she wasn’t leaving palm shaped welts along the length of his back. He took her silence as a means for him to continue, “We don’t sneak out of the fucking house when there are active hits against our family members, and we don’t drug our body guards, just so we can get drunk at the fucking club. Hope this could help.”
“You’re a sick bastard, go back where the fuck you came fro—” her words cut off by Eren roughly placing her back onto the ground. She stumbled as she tried to regain her footing on her heeled boots, her hands instantly going to shield herself from the cold New York air. Eren lugged off his jacket, roughly placing it on her, not wanting to hear anything else come out of her mouth.
“Are you done with all the insults, or do you wanna stand in the cold and keep yelling at me?”
“Fuck you, Eren.”
“You’re not really my type, princess.”
Mikasa scowled before releasing a pained huff, throwing his jacket onto the floor. She stomped the few feet to the car door Eren held open for her, sending one last glare his way before she slammed the door in his face. 
The entire drive home, he could hear her muttering how much she hated her family, how she was pissed off at the fact they hired him, and how much she hated the pathetic excuse of a mall cop they hired from sorry ass Jersey to be her bodyguard. And rather than take offense to any of her insults, all Eren could think about was how much that feeling of hatred was beginning to feel extremely mutual.
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Mmmmmmm give me some good h/c with an exhausted Villain please baby! MMMMMMUAH!!! I love you darling <3
“Did you work yourself to death again?” the hero asked.
The villain didn’t answer, they didn’t even open their eyes — they were simply too exhausted to change anything about their current position. Something inside of them should’ve been embarrassed that the hero was in their bathroom and able to watch them bathe. But at this point, the villain didn’t even care.
It was almost like the hero was their roommate.
They could hear the hero’s steps on the tiled floor coming closer. Judging by the sounds, the hero was wearing socks.
“You gotta stop doing that, you know?” The villain could hear the hero move, how they crouched down. The quiet jingling of the hero’s knives gave that movement away.
Even though the villain was almost asleep, they detected it. Sometimes, it was a curse to know exactly what happened around them without even looking at it. But most of the time they were thankful for their training.
“And you gotta stop breaking into my house,” the villain mumbled. Their bath water was almost cold at this point. They hadn’t even realised how the time had gone by.
All the villain had noticed was their terrible headache and their sore muscles. Not to mention the few cuts on their body.
“I just wanted to borrow some sugar.”
“You borrow it every week and fail to bring it back. You’re a thief, not a hero,” the villain said, their eyes still closed.
“Oh, come on. That’s not fair. I need it for my baking.”
“Do you even own sugar?” the villain asked.
The hero didn’t answer right away, instead they dragged their hand through the villain’s thick wet hair without a warning.
Admittedly, the hero was touchy. And admittedly, the villain liked it.
It even made them moan quietly and very slowly, they opened their eyes. The villain stared at their nemesis. At their bright eyes, their laugh lines, the beautiful shape of their nose. They studied them. As so often.
“You got hurt again, didn’t you?” the hero asked softly. The villain wet their lips.
“It’s fine. I’ll manage,” they said as their gaze jumped to the hero’s mouth. The villain unconsciously mirrored their movement of parting their own lips.
“I’m worried,” the hero admitted. Their hand cupped the villain’s cheek. “You look sick. You’re spending too much time up at night. How many hours of sleep do you get?”
“…four when it’s a good night,” the villain said.
“That’s not enough.” Their thumb drew circles into the villain’s cheek.
“It’s always been.”
“And where has that gotten you? Into your bathtub, bleeding out?” the hero asked. They seemed more aggravated than the villain had calculated.
“I didn’t ask for one of your counselling sessions from your precious agency. That’s this hollow approach. It’s the agency speaking, not you.”
“Fine.” The hero leaned in, their lips brushing the villain’s. Their hand dipped below the water’s surface and touched the villain’s torso, pushing them against the bathtub’s porcelain gently. “I care about you.”
“You care about my sugar,” the villain mumbled, eyes wide. The hero grinned at that which made the villain smile too. It seemed like their tired state was blown away completely. The hero this close, with their lips almost touching…the villain had been secretly longing for this for months.
“Look. I care about you.” They were still so impossibly close. God, the villain was just so overwhelmed by them. By how wonderful they were. So caring, so smart, so honest, so beautiful. “And you destroying yourself for no reason is dumb. You’re not dumb. You don’t get to walk around the city and get into a fight with everyone you see.”
“What are you suggesting?” As they spoke, their lips brushed against the hero.
The hero didn’t pull back.
“Relax. Just consider it. I’ll help you.” They moved their head in a way too seductive way and pressed the most innocent kiss to the villain’s lips.
“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” the villain promised.
They had never broken a promise.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years
Note
Can I request a Jack Russell x protective fem reader mini-shot.
(maybe she’s like Buffy? A mildly supernatural hunter) with prompts 37 & 40?👀
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Prompt list
Prompt 37 & 40 - “get away from him/her/them before I break every bone in your body.” & “are you implying that you want to kiss me?”
After reverting back to his human form, you had quickly come to realise the drawbacks Jack faced after his nightly activity. He became weak with fatigue, his joints would aching as his muscle screamed from over exerting himself. Whilst his physical body was in desperate need of rest, his werewolf instincts were still active to the point where he would become overstimulated by the smallest of things. During this time Jack would become stubborn and reluctant for help, seeing as this was his condition he himself could deal with it.
You, however, disagreed with this notion and insisted that he relied on you or Ted whilst he slept in the tent incase any trouble were to arise while he was in a vulnerable state. Ted seconded this idea through a series of noises, which meant the favour was on your side and Jack had no other choice but to appeal you both before vacating to the tent for the night. As soon as he departed you looked to Ted who was sat across from you, “I’ll take the night watch big guy, you go get some rest.” Ted looked as though he was about to argue against the idea but when you raised your eyebrows at him, he quickly took to his spot and fell asleep.
For some reason you were too restless to sleep, as though something told you that tonight was going to be one of unease for you. Hailing from one of the most acclaimed family of hunters next to that of the Bloodstones, you were taught to take up long night watches and vigorous trained to hone your reflexes to be quick enough to stand a fight chance against monsters. However soon after joining Jack and Ted did you begin using those lessons to protect your friends instead; Dishonouring your family’s legacy in the process by becoming a deserter. You honestly could care less as all that mattered to you as you looked over your shoulder to see Jack huddled up beneath his coat, was protecting those that you loved by any means necessary.
The sound of a twig snapping forced you up on your feet, slowly drew your dual blades from their sheaths, your eyes trained on the spot where the noise had came from but didn’t dare move until you knew what you were facing. Your breathing maybe even while your mind was not as it ran rampant on the who’s or what’s it could be. After moments of no activity, your guard began to slip and you began slowly moving towards the line of bushes; Deducing it to nothing more as an animal passing through. This was a mistake on your behalf as just as you were a good distance away from the camp, a voice spoke from behind. “You’ve grown sloppy y/n, you family would be very displeased in seeing you carelessly throw away the training they’ve implemented into you.”
You knew that voice anywhere and all it ever did was tick you off with how pompous and arrogant it came across. “It seems that you still have yet to remove that stick up your arse, Cylis.” You turned to address the hunter who merely smirked at your quip. “You still haven’t ran dry of snarky comments I see,” Cylis says, “unfortunately you should’ve chosen your words more carefully unless.” He draws out his weapon held it poised at Jack’s neck, the blade glinting in the light of the campfire, “you wish to have the blood of your companion on your hands.” Your mouth tasted sour at the sight before you. The only place of refuge for Ted and Jack had been soiled by one hunter, who’s to say there wasn’t more that knew where you were and was only buying themselves time to strike?
You felt sick to your stomach at this act of cowardice on Cylis’s part, he didn’t have the decency to await on Jack fulling recovering and instead chose to take advantage when he was at his most weakest; Then again he had always been that type of hunter because you knew and Cylis knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight Jack face on. This was his specialty and he took disgusting pride in it, which enraged you more now that you had let this leech bypass into the camp with ease. “Get away from him before I break every bone in you body.” You snapped, wanting nothing more then to rush in and get Cylis away from potentially hurting Jack and Ted but refrained from acting on the anger you felt inside. After all he had the advantage in this situation, not you.
Clearly aware of this Cylis only laughed your threat off like it was nothing, “I would like to see you try, truly but have you considered that you have to actually get close enough to do so?” He gestured to the considerable amount of space between the two of you, causing a plan to quickly form into your head. “You’re right,” you admitted nonchalantly which made the smirk on Cylis’s face fade to a frown, “I beg your pardon?” He asked. “I said you’re right, don’t let it go to your head though.” You told him as you started to slowly walk forwards, “besides, the closest I can get without you doing anything rash is,” you stopped just short of the campfire, “here!” You cried before taking one of the stakes from your back pocket and throwing it so it lodged itself into Cylis’s shoulder.
“Fuck!” He screamed in pain as he discarded his sword to the floor -big mistake- so he could at least attempt in pulling the stake out, only to found it imbedded too deeply that even the slightest ounce of movement caused him great pain. Taking advantage of this, you quickly drew your swords and stabbed one through Cylis’s throat, and the other through his abdomen; watching as he choked on his own blood that pooled beneath him before surcoming to his wounds. “Hope you have a nice time in hell jackass.” You spat, ripping out the stake from his shoulder and pocketing it away, still high on adrenaline. “Now…where shall I put you I wonder?” You thought aloud.
Jack awoke the next morning to the scent of blood, fearing it to be yours, he awoke with a gasp before having himself out of the tent only to find you sat by the smouldering pile that was the campfire, completely unscathed. “Y/n, what happened? I smelt blood.” He asked sitting himself quite closely next to you, thanking you when you handed him some freshly made coffee. “A hunter found our camp.” You told him, watching as his eyes darkened with the possibilities of what could’ve happened had you not taken the night watch. “You should have woken me up y/n, I could’ve helped you-“ “you needed the rest Jack and besides I’m not some damsel in distress who needs protecting all the time.” You cut him off, not wanting to get into this especially first thing in the morning.
Jack, not feeling so certain that you understood where he was coming from regarding his concerns, sets his drink aside in favour of holding your hands within his as he looked into your tiered eyes. “I don’t think you get it y/n. I want to protect you, I’ll always feel the need to protect you.” He said, tightening his hold on your hands as he continued, “the mere thought of something possibly happened to you last night makes me scared. Scared of the off chance that one day I’ll loose you and I don’t want that. I never want that to be the case because I.” “Are you implying that you want to kiss me?” You unceremoniously cut him off mid speech, causing Jack’s words to die in his throat as a wave of sudden shyness washed over him at your straightforwardness.
“Wha-what? No I- good morning Ted!” Jack changed subject when he noticed his friend haven woken up, disturbing the foxes that slept on his back as they fled deeper into the woods; Ted made a noise of acknowledgment as he sat himself across from you like the night before. You chuckled at his poor attempt in concealing his flustered state by excessively drinking his coffee whenever you looked at him. So when the werewolf least expected it you learn against his side, “Shame you didn’t kiss me then and there but there’s always a next time right Jack?” You said teasingly, smiling at him as you pressed a kiss against his cheek, watching as he buried his head into your neck to hide his embarrassment. ‘How adorable.’ You thought as you fished off your morning coffee.
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sen-no-kotowari · 1 year
Text
PGR Noan Character Profile
Good day and I'm back with some good news! The formatting plug-in I use is back to normal so everything should look the same like before. Aside from that, I will be posting back-to-back character profiles over the next few days and the first one up the bater is Noan's! You can learn more about Noan under the cut down below!
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Voice Line Data
Motion Voice Lines
Lobby Voice 1
Noan: I passed nearby the Arts Association while walking around the other day. If there comes a time when peace will be upon us and an Arts Association is built on Earth, would people who love to draw be able to feed themselves? ...I see. That'd be wonderful.
Lobby Voice 2
Noan: What do you think of having a war memorial on the plaza? ...Huh? What do I think about it? I believe the people in this era making the most of their lives are just as awe-inspiring. Perhaps it's because I've seen too many death that I strongly believe more than ever living in itself is...incredible.
Lobby Voice 3
Noan: (Paints something) ........Hm? Oh, I've been painting a picture with the paintbrush you left. It's nothing fancy, just a simple drawing of a sunflower. If I told you I drew this while thinking of you, would you believe me?
Raise Affection Level
Noan: If I tell you that I want to become closer to you... what will you do?
Repetitive Taps
Noan: What's wrong? No need to be frantic. I'll be right by your side.
Log-In
Noan: Welcome back, Commander. I've been waiting for you.
Online for a Long Time
Noan: Wait a second, let me check your eyes. ...Hrm, now open your mouth. What time did you sleep yesterday? ...(Sigh) Really now...
AFK
Noan: I don't know if you're asleep or you're working hard... Well, maybe it's not so bad, getting to see your back like this.
Shake
Noan: Wha—! Are you okay?! Did you trip?
Offline for a Long Time
Noan: Showing up just now, did you oversleep? Were you having a dream of a calm and harmonious world? If that was a blissful dream, then you should've dreamed a little while longer. Don't worry, I'll continue to wait for you here 'til you show up.
Introduction and Formation
Structure Acquired
Noan: Hello there, Commander. Allow me to reintroduce myself. My name's Noan, that is my real name. Pleased to make your acquaintance.
Level Up
Noan: I have to spare no effort if I want to grow as a person.
Advancement
Noan: Thank you. Does this mean you've acknowledged me?
Model Improvement
Noan: Looks like the things I can do for others have increased yet again. Thank you.
Skill Upgrade
Noan: I'll continue to hone these skills until the day I put them to rest.
Equipment
Noan: This weapon... Hmmm, what should I call it?
Add in Team
Noan: Perhaps I should be grateful to you, who put your faith in me.
Assign as Captain
Noan: You're making me the captain? Yeah, I think I can do it. Leave it to me.
Mission Accomplished
Noan: Okay, mission complete. Do we have anything else to do?
Daily Small Talks
Voice Line 1
Noan: Ever since I left City Number 075, I've been staying at Oblivion's base. I wonder if Watanabe's doing well. I'd like to go meet up with him if there's a chance.
Voice Line 2
Noan: Lee sometimes has this resolute look in his eyes... It's as if he had already made peace. Recently, he— ...Nevermind, forget I said anything. It seems like it's something he wishes to keep to himself.
Voice Line 3
Noan: How have I been lately? Maybe I'll tell you a little secret of mine. I'm actually a super Eden-class ambassador. Since both my conversational skills and presentation skills are perfect, I was able to make friends in Eden and also fit in right away.
Voice Line 4
Noan: My past? You've seen plenty of vagabonds who lost their hometown, right? I'm also a part of those vagabonds. There's nothing special about it.
Voice Line 5
Noan: I've heard from Commander Simon that you were an alumnus who graduated as the top student of FOS Military Academy, right? What kind of things do they teach during class in school? ...Most of the schools on Earth were closed down. It makes you wonder—how many people born in this era were able to receive proper education in their life?
Voice Line 6
Noan: I passed nearby the Arts Association while walking around the other day. If there comes a time when peace will be upon us and an Arts Association is built on Earth, would people who love to draw be able to feed themselves? ...I see. That'd be wonderful.
Voice Line 7
Noan: Ah, that's right. I'm done reading the books you've told me about. Do you have other books you can recommend to me? I want to try reading a variety of books more. The library's just around the corner plus I also have a wonderful guide who'll give me a tour.
Voice Line 8
Noan: The starry sky isn't the only thing that shines in the darkness. Even if the small glowing lights around us aren't as bright as the North Star, they emit a faint light with everything they have.
Voice Line 9
Noan: Everyone used to admire stories about heroes saving the world when they were little, right? But when they grew up, they knew that those are just fictional stories, nothing more—no matter how much you do your best, you can't change the world around you alone. That's why... I'm glad that we both could do our very best here.
Voice Line 10
Noan: I don't regret rejecting the offer of becoming an Ascendant, even if it meant I'd accept how ordinary I am. I would be betraying my heart if I did. Don't worry. I already made up my mind from the moment I told you the name "Noan," no matter what may happen.
Voice Line 11
Noan: You always devote yourself to either listening to other people's worries or what they feel deep down, just like the gentle protagonists from the stories I've read... But why don't you try asking someone for some advice once in a while? I fear you might break someday if you always keep your worries to yourself.
Voice Line 12
Noan: What do you think of having a war memorial on the plaza? ...Huh? What do I think about it? I believe the people in this era making the most of their lives are just as awe-inspiring. Perhaps it's because I've seen too many death that I strongly believe more than ever living in itself is...incredible.
Voice Line 13
Noan: I look forward to the day this world overcomes the harsh winter and welcomes the tender spring... If you also share the same sentiment as I do, shall we make a promise to each other? Of course, I'd want you to be included in that future.
Voice Line 14
Noan: (Paints something) ........Hm? Oh, I've been painting a picture with the paintbrush you left. It's nothing fancy, just a simple drawing of a sunflower. If I told you I drew this while thinking of you, would you believe me?
Voice Line 15
Noan: I don't regret the things I've done in the past. I've used the grief I experienced as a catalyst to move forward without ever denying myself. ...For a brighter tomorrow free from strife, I shall give everything I have head-on so that we won't lose any more people we hold dear.
Raise Affection Level
Voice Line 1
Noan: (Chuckle) You sure have a lot of friends.
Voice Line 2
Noan: It'd be a waste to gift that to me. How about giving it to someone more worthy than me?
Voice Line 3
Noan: I'm happy enough that you're standing in front of me without your guard up.
Voice Line 4
Noan: Thank you... Are you just this kind to anyone you've met?
Voice Line 5
Noan: What are your hobbies? Ehehe, getting to know each other is the first important step in becoming friends.
Voice Line 6
Noan: Should I draw a picture for you in return as thanks? I'm kidding. This present you gave me is far more valuable than any of my drawings.
Voice Line 7
Noan: Despite the countless despair and spite this world has, you still make sure to treat others kindly. You truly are amazing.
Voice Line 8
Noan: I'm fine with any notebook and pen. I feel like it'd be wasteful if I use such a good quality paintbrush for this.
Voice Line 9
Noan: Are we... friends already? Ah, I want to be your friend, your comrade. And from here on out, I wish to stay by your side... That's what I feel.
Voice Line 10
Noan: I don't have much to give back to you in return, but... Please don't hesitate to tell me if there's something I can do for you.
Voice Line 11
Noan: Can I... come meet you again tomorrow?
Voice Line 12
Noan: Thank you so much... truly. It's not just the presents you've given me. I'm thankful for you and the words you said to me back then.
Voice Line 13
Noan: We're still amidst the harsh winter... But whenever you're with me, it feels like it becomes less cold than before.
Voice Line 14
Noan: If I tell you that I want to become closer to you... what will you do?
Voice Line 15
Noan: It's enough for me that we're aiming for the same goal and being able to fight alongside you, but that doesn't mean I'll stop longing for you... (Chuckle) Commander?
Voice Line 16
Noan: Can I take it that you're okay being this close to each other, Commander...?
AFK
Voice Line 1
Noan: Your sleepiness is also making me feel sleepy, hrm... Even though I already don't need to sleep anymore...
Voice Line 2
Noan: It's been pretty quiet, but are you busy with something else?
Voice Line 3
Noan: I don't know if you're asleep or you're working hard... Well, maybe it's not so bad, getting to see your back like this.
Voice Line 4
Noan: Are you asleep? I want to check up close if you're sleeping, but just in case I might wake you up... Yeah, I should stop here.
Voice Line 5
Noan: ♬~Our wishes will outlive us~♪ The light you shine is gentle as you are~♬[1]
Online for a Long Time
Voice Line 1
Noan: Having a lot of missions to deal with seems tough. Is there something I could help you with?
Voice Line 2
Noan: Oh-kay, let's confirm if you're still wide awake. What do you see on this ink blotch? ...It's some sort of abstract matter? Uhh-huh...
Voice Line 3
Noan: You're complaining that your neck hurts because you're always looking downwards. ...Come on, let's do some light stretches. Relax your muscles, and move around your head and shoulders.
Voice Line 4
Noan: Wait a second, let me check your eyes. ...Hrm, now open your mouth. What time did you sleep yesterday? ...(Sigh) Really now...
Voice Line 5
Noan: You've sacrificed your health just so you can finish all your work. I doubt you'd even listen to me, but... Why not rest even just for a few minutes?
Log-In
Voice Line 1
Noan: Morning. Do we have a mission today?
Voice Line 2
Noan: Commander, here's the list of missions for today. If we're all set, let's head out.
Voice Line 3
Noan: Morning, Commander Simon told me to pass along this message to you when I met him in front of the training room. Let's get along, he said.
Voice Line 4
Noan: I've been thinking it's about time you arrive here. I guess we're connected telepathically then?
Voice Line 5
Noan: You're back, Commander. I did several missions while you weren't here the past few days, but I knew I'd think about such a thought... "If only you were here," that is.
Voice Line 6
Noan: Welcome back, Commander. I've been waiting for you.
Voice Line 7
Noan: Did you sleep well last night? Your ability to focus would recede when you're tired, plus the people who care for you would be worried. Hm? Of course, I would be. I'm also one of those people.
Voice Line 8
Noan: Welcome back, Commander. I've been thinking about you. Oh, well you're not wrong that you're in front of me right now. Even so, I just couldn't help myself.
Offline for a Long Time
Noan: Showing up just now, did you oversleep? Were you having a dream of a calm and harmonious world? If that was a blissful dream, then you should've dreamed a little while longer. Don't worry, I'll continue to wait for you here 'til you show up.
Shake
Voice Line 1
Noan: Wha—! Are you okay?! Did you trip?
Voice Line 2
Noan: Stop it, my glasses are about to fall down... Wha- wait... Don't take off my glasses...!
Voice Line 3
Noan: Even if you do that, a coin won't come out from me.
Repetitive Taps
Voice Line 1
Noan: Hm? What the- (Sigh)... I already said I'm not hiding anything. Wait, this isn't a body inspection?
Voice Line 2
Noan: W-wait— th-that tickles! Aha-...Gee, that was unexpectedly childish of you. It's fine, I'll let this slide since I saw your smile.
Voice Line 3
Noan: What's wrong? No need to be frantic. I'll be right by your side.
Activity Task Full
Noan: Our activity level's at max level, let's take a small break. If you have other plans you want to do, shall I tag along?
Battle Dialogues
Battle Start/Character Switch
Noan: I fight so the plights and suffering in our lifetime will be kept at bay.
Voice Line 1
Noan: Let's reassess what their sins are.
Voice Line 2
Noan: This is how the "best duo" pairs up.
Voice Line 3
Noan: Tear through the darkest night.
Ultimate Skill
Noan: Amidst the depths of winter will genuine springtide flourish!
Light Damage
Noan: I'm fine.
Heavy Damage
Noan: No... I mustn't fall here...
Incapacitated
Noan: I'm sorry... for leaving you all alone...
Friend Support
Noan: I don't plan to make you suffer any longer.
QTE
Noan: Aim for a swift victory.
Battle End
Noan: It's over, let's go home now.
Structure Documentation
Document Detail 1
Noan's appearance has established the fact Ascendants can turn humans into Structures. He is currently under surveillance in Eden for associating with an Ascendant. Although he doesn't seem to be disgruntled by the constant surveillance, research, and cooperation with his examinations, most of the "people who know his situation" feels somewhat lonely since Noan acts courteously as if he's keeping them at arm's length.
Document Detail 2
Noan himself named his model "Sojourn." He took inspiration from the time a young boy had preached to him after he left the Azil—"the world around us is a sojourn and all the sorrow they've experienced will one day return to the earth." The world around us is a large place of dwelling. Yes, even this very body he has. He has begun his new journey to the final destination of his life.
Document Detail 3
After he had fitted one of his coatings, Noan was sorely unsure whether or not he'd dye his hair in a rainbow color. However, everyone in Barometz Platoon strongly opposed it and even received harsh criticism from Arts Association Chairman Allen, saying it was "an abstract expression." The white streak of hair strands offset by his raven-colored hair expresses his resolution.
Document Detail 4
Even though Noan could deftly master a weapon and can write in either his left or right hand, he isn't particularly good at handling heavy weapons. It's not because of how incompetent he is, but because he's proficient in keen and nimble combat. The blueprint for his Energy Blade is a gift he received from Rachel on his 17th birthday. The other blade he wields on his other hand is something he had been using ever since he joined the porter company. Until Noan obtained his Energy Blade, his weapons used to be a blade and a gun.
Document Detail 5
He is hardly proficient in long-range weapons. Even the accuracy of the gun Noan previously used wasn't high. When you'd think he missed the mark, he would actually hit the vital target by fluke. There was a time when the bullet Noan fired pierced 3 windows, hitting the billboard across the building, and it fell on the leader of a burglary group.
Document Detail 6
He was able to escape an Ascendant's interferences and hallucinations alone. According to later observations, it was acknowledged that the stability in his Sea of Consciousness allows him adaptability toward Specialized Models. The Science Council still hasn't concluded whether this characteristic was something Noan originally had or was the result of the Ascendant's interference.
Rumors and Secrets
Secret 1 Has read a considerable amount of manga in a stack room. Noan seems to be receptive to any work, possibly because there are also peculiar plots among those he'd read. He would thoroughly read a manga title until the end, especially titles recommended to him by his friends.
Secret 2 To secure some space in his bag, Noan left a manga with a pear blossom between its pages at City Number 075. It was the Gray Raven Team who found that manga when they had visited for a survey. Noan retrieved that manga after that, but he lost it when he was heavily injured in City Number 210.
Secret 3 Noan still occasionally dreams of his past up until now. With how he is now, however, he is distinctly self-aware that it's all a dream and immediately wakes up—because in that dream, there isn't a single scratch on the firefly in his hands.
Secret 4 Although Noan had learned countless skills to survive, the only exception to that is cooking—up until he became a Structure, cooking delicious food wasn't a necessity for him. Now so long as he has a recipe to follow, Noan could cook the dish to a certain extent. Since he frowns upon ingredients going to waste, he inattentively ate the scrap parts of the ingredients on one occasion.
Secret 5 Whenever Noan is at a loss for what to do, he would tell a joke with a serious look on his face and divert the subject matter. He would often make his facial expressions overly serious so the other person would take them seriously. Noan would most likely say "maybe I'll tell you a little secret of mine" whenever he would tell an outlandish joke in the beginning, but he'd immediately give an explanation for his actions if the other person does take it seriously. If he manages to get by each time, strictly speaking.
Secret 6 Noan was once praised by his colleagues in the porter company for being skilled at consoling people and he would usually be the person they rely on to take care of their hammered colleagues at their drinking parties. Although he doesn't drink alcoholic beverages himself, it doesn't mean he wouldn't help them out or ditch out on the people who need someone could lend an ear to them.
Secret 7 Noan isn't good at handling people who are crying—he also can't tell if the other person is actually crying or shedding crocodile tears. To appear calm in front of a crying person even though he's panicking internally, Noan will probably almost nod to every request he generally won't agree on.
Secret 8 He wants to be reincarnated as a seagull in his next life, yet he has never seen either the ocean or a seagull before he became a Structure.
Secret 9 Noan was infamous as a pigheaded person in Passenger Car N until he was 13 years old. Because he recurrently used to incite a reckless feud, he was referred to as a "prickly boy"[2] by the people in that car. The person in question, however, has neither seen a chestnut's burr nor a person getting stabbed by it so he never knew they were referring to him.
Secret 10 Even though he isn't particularly nit-picky when it comes to colors, Noan prefers shades of white that give off a pure and clean feel—it ranges from white fabric, white bird feathers, clear skies, a pristine piece of paper, and so on... But the only thing he hates among the pure white things is snow, especially an endless snowfield.
Secret 11 While he was easy to get along with and had hit off with many friends, Noan had very few close friends he cherished in all sincerity. He's somewhat dense when it comes to emotions and is constantly passive, as he never expressed his desires or his eagerness to someone he was just recently acquainted with—he's the type of person who'd like to know the other person well on top of closing the distance between them.
Secret 12 He would frankly express his emotions to close friends. When the other person shows an interesting reaction to his words, Noan will try to pull a prank using that word. Despite being aware that he still has a childish side, he doesn't plan on hiding this side of himself entirely from his close friends.
This is in reference to the Surviving Glimmer's main theme song.
This may possibly be a reference to the manga "Igakuri-kun" (Igakuri-kun: Young Judo Master) written by Fukui Eiichi.
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kny-agere · 9 months
Note
Hi hi!!! me again lol, I was gonna wait a while to request these 2 again (since I figured you didn't want to write for the same characters again so soon lmao) buuut I can't help but keep re-reading that drabble you did for me!! so I figured I'd request now and let you get around to it on your own time! ^^ I was wondering if I could request one more little akaza and cg douma drabble? with douma comforting akaza after he has a bad nightmare. (and as always absolutely 0 pressure to write this!!! I just like reading about my comfort characters lmao) -Kerfuffle :3 (p.s keep up the good work!!!)
Douma is trying his best but he’s still getting the hang of it ;-;
★彡☆彡★彡
It was rare when Akaza got the chance to spend time alone with Douma. Fraternizing with other demons was looked down upon by the master, even among the upper moons. They could only find moments like this every dozen or so years.
Akaza slept when he got like this, or did whatever was closest to sleeping for demons. The blond couldn’t fathom shutting himself off from the world in such a way. Even as a child sleeping was just a brief intermission between one day and the next. His little one had a face that slowly twitched and shifted as dreams flowed through his head. Akaza was tight lipped about what happened within these visions. Douma tried his best to observe his reactions to the imaginings.
While he knew better than to wake up the older demon, currently the idea seemed rather appealing. Akaza wore a very ugly look, lips twisted downwards accompanied by a knitted brow. Douma was unsure of what to do in a situation like this. His beloved had seemed so peaceful mere moments before.
“Akaza-kun!” The blond called softly. He drew the child into his arms. He was less careful than usual, hoping something would wake Akaza. When he remained asleep Douma tried blowing on his face. Regularly he was regarded as a nuisance. It should’ve been easy to wake the man.
It took quite a bit of shaking and slapping around for the man to wake up. Douma felt bad when he burst awake. Akaza seemed startled, unaware of the situation. Only a few minutes ago he has seemed rather comfortable within the sea of blankets.
“What were you dreaming about?” It was meant to be a simple jab. When the older demons face crumpled into a worse expression his heart crumpled too. “Hey! I didn’t mean that. You don’t have to tell me ok? We can just cuddle or something.”
Douma tried a few different ways of soothing him, but Akaza only got more upset. Tears rolled down his face in big fat globs. Little gasps and sobs fell from his lips. It wasn’t uncommon for him to throw fits. This however was a bit extreme. He was cradled in Douma’s lap for now, but unresponsive to his promptings.
It took a few minutes of cradling and cooing, but eventually Akaza calmed down slightly. “Come on my sweet boy. What’s upsetting you so much?” Douma continued to run his hand through the pink locks. The front of his shirt was covered with tears and a little snot which was gross but he tried not to mind.
Akaza just blubbered a bit. It was hard to tell if he was answering the question or just continuing to air out his fears.
“Hey, you’re here with me baby. We’re sitting in my bed, isn’t it so soft? I got the pillows from some traveling saleswoman and she tasted- oh! I mean, isn’t the silk nice on your skin?”
“Stop it!” He let out a strangled scream afterwards and aims for Douma’s head. There’s real strength behind the action.
All the blond can do is keep trying to soothe the boy. His attacks don’t do any real harm but make it harder to keep his hold tight. “I’m sorry baby. It’s ok. I didn’t meet to upset you.” He wraps his arms tight around Akaza.
It takes a few more minutes of coddling. This time when Akaza calms down he stays that way. His eyes are tinged with red. Normally that would go away after a few seconds but the demon must’ve really tired himself out.
“Does my sweetheart feel better? Daddy’s happy to have you here with him.”
“I dunno.”
“Say yes.”
“No.”
“That’s ok baby I know you’re just being silly. I love you the most!”
“…love you too.”
At that Douma can’t help but laugh and pepper Akaza with dozens of kisses. His tired expression has softened again as he leans into the soft touch around him. One day Douma will know exactly what words to use to coax out the boy’s thoughts but for now he’s happy when Akaza’s hands slowly sink into his shirt and hug him back.
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hiero-green · 1 year
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one of my precious darling (neglected) winx club boys Eridon <3 drew it at 2am when i should’ve been asleep and coloured it in class on wednesday
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adams-rockstar · 6 months
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Amanda’s Missing Piece: A Saw Fanfiction
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Chapter 10: Nightmares
“Who is that?! WHO’S IN THERE?!”
“...I’ll KILL you, you motherfucker!”
The sounds of Adam’s panicked shouts into his darkened, cluttered apartment plagued Amanda’s sleeping subconscious, as the images from that day were starting to come into too clear a view.
A flash from his camera, as he tried to light his way through the outage, shone in her face, followed by black…..and his screams.
His horrible, blood curdling screams that she shouldn’t have been able to hear still, even if they were muffled, after John shut that door, echoed through her mind.
...only this time, they weren’t muffled…
This time, Amanda could hear them ear piercingly and as clear as day…..
..and they didn’t stop when she was jolted awake, in a cold sweat.
As she sat up, catching her breath, she could hear Adam’s…..albeit, muffled by the walls, shouts from another room, accompanied by Roxy’s barking.
“Adam?!”
She followed the screams out into the living room, where she found him on the couch, tossing and thrashing in his sleep half covered by that blanket she’d brought in from her car, while he continued to shout.
She raced over to him and began trying to shake him awake.
“Adam! ADAM!! Shh, shh! Wake up, it's okay, it’s okay!”
Her voice was raised, but gentle, as she tried this a couple more times before he jolted awake and began to frantically check his surroundings.
“I know…” Her voice lowered slightly, as she continued to try and reassure him. “...you’re okay now, it was just a dream….you’re safe.”
She still had a hand, lovingly, over his shoulder when he looked up at her and let out a sigh of relief and muttered to himself. “Jesus…”
She smiled sympathetically back at him. “..Are you okay, now?”
“Yeah…” He sighed, starting to sit up more, as he used a hand to rub his eyes. “Yeah, I-I will be…” He sighed again. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you that’s been happening.”
“You don’t need to apologize.” She reassured him.
“Well, I do if I woke you up.” He sighed.
“You don’t…” She repeated. “...and, you didn’t anyway. I already wasn’t sleeping all that well, to begin with.”
“Well, I beg to differ on the former, but...thanks.” He wore a weak smile.
She smiled back at him, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder that her hand had previously been on.
“...so, what happened to sleeping in my so-called fancy guest room?” She teased, offering a chance to change the subject.
“Oh….right.” He chuckled. “Well, that was an accident. Roxy got on my lap over here after you turned in for the night, and I don’t know, I guess I just passed out.”
“Well, you did have a long day.”
“Yeah…” He sighed, still half smiling.
Amanda, who was kneeling by the couch, gradually looked down, at the sensation of Roxy’s wiry fur brushing against her legs.
Adam smiled even more, as he too, looked down to see her.
The shy little terrier was standing just close enough that she could see if Adam was okay, her tail slowly starting to wag, as she began to feel more at ease.
“Hey…” He chuckled. “Hey, Sweetie. It’s okay….it’s okay, come here.”
Her little tail began to wag even more, as Adam patted a spot next to him on the couch, and she eagerly jumped up and started kissing him, earning even more laughs from him and a smile from Amanda, aimed at the both of them, as well.
“That’s my girl.” He praised her, meeting her licks with head scratches.
Amanda smiled even more, as she reached out to pet her and was also met with some eager kisses. Kisses that were short lived, however, as the terrier’s clear priority was Adam.
Adam, of course, was happy to oblige.
After another few, albeit slightly less, restless hours, Amanda eventually decided to get back up and put some coffee on and fix some breakfast.
She was careful not to disturb Adam, who had fallen back asleep on the couch, alongside Roxy.
Roxy of course, however, wouldn’t stay there for very much longer, as the smell of eggs cooking over the stove eventually drew her over to Amanda’s side.
She chuckled softly, as the hopeful terrier was now standing up on her hind legs, with her paws up on the front of the oven and whining for some scraps.
“Shhh! Here..”
Roxy, just as eagerly, followed Amanda over to the fridge, where she took a couple slices of that roast beef that Roxy had loved so much, and tore some pieces off for her, so that she could get back to tending to her breakfast.
Roxy’s tail wagged a mile a minute, as she quickly scarfed down the scraps in front of her, before trotting over to wash it down with some water from her dish.
Amanda giggled quietly to herself over the interaction, only briefly becoming distracted and looking up when she overheard Adam start to stir a little on the couch and mutter something incoherent in his sleep.
Relief washed over her again, once he was quiet again and she was able to just brush it off as normal tossing and turning.
She sighed to herself, trying to shake the incident earlier back from her mind and return to what she was doing.
It wasn’t until she was almost done with her second cup of coffee that Adam would be up, for the day, and join her at her little dining table.
“You’re up early.” He greeted, inadvertently making Amanda jump a little from behind.
She chuckled to herself over it and shot him a little smirk, as she took another sip from her coffee. “So are you.”
“Yeah, but I assume you’ve been up a while longer.” He returned the smirk, as he eyed the mug that sat in front of her.
Meanwhile, Roxy was trotting over from her corner of the room to return to Adam’s side.
“....or did you purposely fill your cup up that low?”
“Smartass.” She teased.
The smirk on his face only grew, clearly proud of his little remark.
“I didn’t keep you from going back to sleep, did I?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She teased, finishing her cup off and getting up to take it to the sink. “...I already told you, I wasn’t sleeping any better before that.”
“If you say so…” Though, he clearly wasn’t buying it.
Amanda rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I made some eggs when I got up, so there’s some in the fridge, if you wanna heat them up.”
He smiled and nodded at the offer, as he patted around his pockets and took a small cigarette box from one of them. “Thanks, I might take you up on that in a bit. In the meantime, you don’t happen to have a lighter I could borrow, do you?”
“I might.” She answered with a little smirk, as she dug it out of her pocket. “Trade you for a cigarette?”
“Deal.” He agreed with a grin, putting his in his mouth, while he took one out to toss to her.
“Thanks.” She took a second to light her own before tossing the lighter to him.
“Mmm..” He nodded, as he took his turn with it before tossing it back to her.
“Thought I might take this out with me, while I take Roxy out for a little walk, if you wanna join us.”
Her face lit up at the offer. “Love to.”
He grinned, turning around briefly to Roxy, as they started to walk out the door.
He patted the side of his leg. “You comin or what?”
It was with that, that Roxy let out an eager little yap, as she quickly trotted along behind them, as they headed out the door.
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avastrasposts · 1 year
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The British Connection - Ch. 14
Took me a while but I finally posted chapter 14 of my The Boys fic, The British Connection. It's all on AO3 (link below) but here's chapter 14. It starts with a bit of smut because I left the two main characters in bed at the end of ch. 13 a fair few months ago.
Eve felt Billy’s presence before she opened her eyes. His arm was a heavy weight across her waist and his body heat was enough to warm the whole bed. She pried her eyes and squinted at the window, the little light that filtered down between the buildings was bright sharp sunshine and she guessed they'd been asleep a few hours. Her head still felt heavy from lack of sleep the night before and she closed her eyes, listening to Billy’s slow even breaths next to her. She couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about sleeping with him, even though it probably complicated things. He was like a force of nature, the way he made her feel when he touched her, it had been impossible to resist. Plus, he was one of less than a handful of people who knew who she really was in her professional life, it made things easier to not have to hide that. 
She carefully reached for her phone on the bedside table and tapped through the messages that had come in. No emergencies and no new information, it seemed McKay hadn’t returned to his hotel room yet. 
Behind her Billy stirred, roused by her movements, and she felt his arm tighten his grip around her waist, pulling her towards him as she put her phone down. His nose found the back of her neck and he drew a deep breath as his hand slid up and cupped one of her breasts. 
“Morning, luv,” he grumbled into her hair. 
“More like afternoon, love,” she replied, relishing in the warmth of his hand across chest. 
He let his calloused fingers circle her nipple gently, his thumb caressing the butter soft skin, raising goose bumps. She felt her body respond to his touch and she stretched out, her back pushing up against his stomach and she felt his cock twitch as her backside brushed over him. A long yawn escaped her and Billy huffed behind her, pulling her closer again, his hips pushing against hers.
“Still sleepy, darlin´? Or ready for round two?” he chuckled. His hand took a better hold of her breast and gave it a firm squeeze. 
“You’ve got another round in you old man?,” she teased and he pinched her nipple, making her gasp. 
“Who you callin’ old, Edwards? You’re only two years younger than me, I saw your file, remember?” he growled into her ear before biting down on her earlobe. 
“Makes all the difference,” she moaned as his mouth moved down to her neck, finding the same spot he found earlier that morning. 
“Two more years experience on the job, luv,” he chuckled, his hand leaving her breast and sliding down her soft stomach, tickling at the apex of her thighs before coaxing her legs to open up for his fingers. She could feel the heat of her arousal strumming under her skin as he gently slipped between her folds and found her silky wet already. 
“Darlin’” he grumbled softly against her neck, “you should’ve woken me up sooner.” 
“Old men need their sleep,” she smiled and he removed his hand to swat her behind with a huff as she protested the loss of his fingers. 
“Be nice or you can go back to playing with your toy.” He sunk two fingers into her again and she gasped loudly as he slipped them deep inside without warning, curling them back and hitting something exquisite. 
“Promise,” she stuttered as his fingers moved inside her, “just keep doing that.” She pushed her hips against his fingers as his thumb found her clit and started circling it with slow precision, drawing sharp moans from her as his lips moved over her neck. Her hand shot up and cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer as she turned for a sloppy kiss, her fingers tugging on his hair. 
Billy’s heavy cock was pressing up against the small of her back and she pushed back against him as he chased the friction her movements gave him, precum starting to smear across her skin. 
“Lift your leg, put it over mine,” Billy mumbled, his fingers still steadily moving in and out of her, her cunt closing tight around them as she moaned into his mouth. Obediently she did as he said and he shifted down her body, lining his aching cock up against her soaking wet fold. His fingers left her pussy but her protest turned to a deep groan as he pushed himself into her tight grip. The sheer size of him made her squeeze hard around his length and he gasped, steadying himself with a hand on her hip, snaking the other one under her waist, taking hold of her. 
“Gorgeous girl, you feel so good around me, how are you so fuckin’ tight, he faltered, his head falling against her shoulder as he drew a deep breath. 
“Billy, please, please move,” she moaned, her pussy contracting around him and he growled as he pulled almost all out, grabbing onto her hips and sinking himself into her heat again. Her whimpers made his cock twitch and swell inside her and as his fingers reached down and found her clit again he set a steady, fast pace. Heat was rising rapidly in her, his body seemed to envelop her, his muscular leg pushed up between her own, one arm curled around her waist, pulling her hips down on to him, the other draped around her hips, fingers eagerly sliding and teasing her clit as his heavy cock slipped in and out at a punishing rate. His breath was ghosting over her shoulder, hot and damp, and as she leaned her head back into him, she felt his teeth sink into her shoulder with a groan. With a cry of his name she convulsed, tightening her grip on his hair as he felt her cunt clamp down around his cock, choking it as he chased her orgasm with his own. 
Afterwards, as he was softening inside her, making another mess on her sheets, he gripped her jaw and gently turned her face towards his, pressing his lips against hers in a soft, chaste kiss. 
“Gorgeous girl,” he mumbled, “I’m gonna take a shower and then we should see about that diner.” 
The afternoon was slipping into early evening as they left the diner and got into Butcher’s car, making their way over to The Flatiron in the slow peak hour traffic. There’d still been no news on McKay and Eve was quietly starting to wonder if he’d slipped away, that he wasn’t coming back to the hotel. The short winter evening was quickly making the streets light up with billboards and street lights, slushy snow splashing up around the Cadillac’s tyres. The inside of Butcher’s car was quiet, both occupants deep in thought, but Billy’s hand was firmly on Eve’s thigh, the warmth of his large palm radiating through the fabric of her trousers. It felt strangely comforting and familiar to have it there, Billy’s former animosity turned into something that felt almost protective. It had been an unspoken conversation, to let things rest for now, while the supe was still at large. Whatever had begun between them would have to wait until this mission was over. 
“If we both survive,” Eve thought to herself before squashing it down to the heavy lump in the pit of her stomach. The power of the supe was unnerving and demanded full commitment to take down, she feared her judgement would be clouded if worse came to worst. Who would she be able to kill if needed? McKay absolutely. But Billy? And would Billy kill her if necessary? Two days ago she would’ve said yes without hesitation, now she wobbled around the answer and it scared her. There was very little room for error in their line of work, and now there was another complication factoring in. 
Inadvertently she let a deep sigh escape her as she looked out of the car window and she felt Billy give her leg a squeeze. 
“Penny for your thoughts, luv” he said softly. 
“Just the usual, replaying scenarios, possible outcomes, next move, you know the routine,” she half lied, not looking back at him. 
“Yeah, I know,” he gave her leg a gentle pat and silence settled in the car again. 
A little while later Butcher pulled up in front of The Flatiron, miraculously finding his usual spot open, and they made their way up to the office, finding Hughie and MM inside. 
“Evening, lads,” Butcher greeted them as he closed the door. “Any news from Frenchie and Kimiko?”
“Only that Frenchie’s contact came through, Frenchie has the gear to hopefully take down the supe now.” MM replied, giving Butcher and Eve a curious look. 
“If he ever comes back to the hotel,” Butcher grumbled. “It’s been over thirty six hours of surveillance and no sight of him.” 
“If he doesn’t turn up by tomorrow night we’ll have to assume he won’t be returning,” Eve said, looking at Butcher who was rubbing a hand over his beard. 
“Yeah, we might need to start workin’ on a plan B,” he replied, looking back at her. “Why don’t you and Hughie go over the files again, see if you can pick up on somethin’ we missed. MM and I should set up Frenchies equipment, make sure we can get it into place when we need it.” 
“Alright, sure, sounds good,” Eve nodded and started pulling out her laptop as Hughie came over, offering her a coffee from the office machine. Before long they were  huddled around a couple of screens, slowly trawling through reams of information. 
Butcher made his way over to the weapons storage at the back of the office, MM following behind. 
“You slept with her, didn’t you?” MM hissed as the door to the small storage room closed behind them. 
“Did no such thing, mate,” Butcher smirked, “we had some breakfast, dropped her off at her flat and then I had a nice long kip at my place.” He turned to one of the ammo cases on the small table and opened it. 
“Bullshit, Butcher. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday, I can smell her body wash on you and frankly, you look like you just got laid. I know that look. It’s been far too long since I had that look.” 
“No idea what you’re talking about, MM,” Butcher scoffed, his back still turned to the bigger man. 
“Yeah, yeah, just don’t let getting your dick wet cloud your judgement. Like you said, this supe is fucking dangerous. Don’t you fucking risk our lives for...” MM’s words were cut short by Butcher suddenly turning and slamming his arm across MM’s chest, forcing him up against the gun rack. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ question my judgement, MM,” he growled loudly, “and keep your nose out of my fuckin’ business, mate.” WIth a shove Butcher stepped away from MM who sneered at him. “Just keep your stubborn fucking head in the game, Butcher.” He stalked out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him, making both Eve and Hughie look up from their screens. 
“Everything alright, MM?” Hughie asked. 
“Yeah, just Butcher being Butcher,” MM replied, sitting down in front of his own computer. 
Eve pulled her eyebrows together in a frown and looked over at the weapons storage door but decided against getting involved. Both she and Hughie had heard Butcher's loud voice through the door and although Eve had no doubt what business Billy wanted MM out of it was probably smarter to not get between the two men right now. With a sigh she went back to the files, complications were already happening as a result of their actions. 
Butcher remained in the weapons storage for a good half an hour before emerging and making his way over to his desk, not looking at MM or Eve in the process, and getting into his own work. The time crawled slowly forward, the only voices in the office was the low hum of Eve and Hughie discussing some details in the files, while the sky outside the window gradually went darker. Eventually MM and Hughie got up to get ready to take over from Frenchie and Kimiko in the van. 
“I’ll come over too,” Butcher spoke up for the first time in a couple of hours. “Need to check out where we can set up the gun for Frenchie.” As Hughie and MM readied themselves Butcher went over to Eve’s desk, stopping with his back to MM. 
“You comin’ too, luv?,” he asked in a low voice so only she could hear and she looked up at him with a smile.  
“Do you want me to come, Billy?” 
“I’d feel better if you did, ye,” he dropped his hand to hers on the desk and gave it a gentle tug while his lips turned up in a small, crooked smile. 
“Give me a second then, I’ll pack up.” Billy stepped back from her desk as she stood and got her things together. Looking back at MM and Hughie he barked an order. 
“Meet us over there, Edwards and I will follow in my car.”
It was well and truly night time by the time Butcher and Eve arrived in Hunt’s Points, a few minutes after MM and Hughie. They’d already swapped places with Frenchie and Kimiko in the van, the latter waiting for Butcher down the street by Frenchie’s car. 
“Monsieur Charcuterie, Mademoiselle Edwards,” Frenchie greeted them both, opening up the trunk of a car and lifting out a long black case. It was conspicuous but the street was empty as the four of them made their way towards one of the alley ways. 
“I scouted this earlier,” Frenchie said, “we can get up to the roof at the back of this building, gives me a perfect sight line into his room.” 
“If he ever shows up,” Butcher grumbled, “we’re looking at plan B, if he’s not back by tomorrow night.” 
“It has been too long,” Frenchie agreed as they approached a ladder, hanging low to the ground. With Butcher’s tall frame it was no effort to pull it down so that they all could climb up, Butcher taking the lead with Eve taking up the rear. 
Up on the flat roof Frenchie quickly found a spot that suited him and started setting up the sniper rifle. Butcher handed him a box of regular ammo. 
“In case you need to shoot more than just tranq shots,” he said and Frenchie nodded. 
Satisfied that Frenchie was set up and ready to go if needed, Butcher and Eve made their way back down, leaving Kimiko with Frenchie. 
“How you feelin’, luv?” Butcher asked as they walked back to his car. “Need some dinner? Or more sleep?”
“Do you mean sleep, Billy, or “sleep”,” you made air quotes in the air as Billy chuckled. 
“I mean actual sleep, we’re meant to take over for MM and Hughie at 8 am.” 
“Dinner and actual sleep sounds like a good idea then,” Eve said and started walking towards the passenger side of the car but Billy grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his chest, pushing her backwards until she was pressed up against the brick wall of the alley, his face bent down close in to the crook of her neck. 
“Jeez, Billy, I thought you said actual sleep,” Eve laughed but he quickly put his large palm over her mouth, his eyes intense and serious. With a slight nod of his head he motioned out towards the opposite side of the street.
“Moan, like we’re making out,” he whispered, “keep an eye on him.” 
Eve glanced to where Billy had motioned and suddenly saw the supe, McKay, walking towards the hotel entrance. He glanced over at them and Eve pulled Billy closer, moaning into his shoulder. 
“Oh, babe, just like that, don’t stop.” Billy’s hands came up to her breast, clearly palming it under her jacket as he grabbed the hair at her neck, pulling her head down out of view from McKay. 
Over the top of Billy’s head she could just about make out McKay continue on towards the hotel, she faked a moan again as Billy pushed his leg between her thighs and angled her slightly so that she could see McKay better. With a final few steps he disappeared behind the doors and Eve quickly pushed Billy back, reaching under her coat to pull her gun, flicking the safety off. 
“He’s in the hotel, we need to get to the van and give Frenchie a head’s up.” 
Butcher nodded, pulling his own gun from under his black coat as he took long strides back to the van. Giving it a sharp knock with his knuckles they impatiently waited for Hughie to slide the door open. 
“Heads up, boys, he’s just entered the hotel,” Billy hissed as he climbed into the van, Eve following close behind. “We just saw him, don’t think he saw us though.” 
“Oh shit, Frenchie all set up?” MM asked, grabbing the radio and hailing Frenchie. 
“Ye, should be ready to go,” Butcher replied as he and Eve crouched down to get a better look at the monitors. 
Frenchie’s “D’accord,” came through the radio and in silence the four in the van waited, intently staring at the monitors. Before long the light in the supes room came on and he started moving around seemingly getting ready for bed. 
Butcher picked up the radio and hailed Frenchie; 
“Whenever you have a clear shot, Frenchie.” 
“D’accord,” Frenchie replied, the slight shuffle of the rifle on the concrete roof heard through the radio static. 
A few seconds passed and then the shot came through the radio, the silencer on the rifle muffling the shot to barely nothing. On the monitor the window cracked as McKay bounced back from the impact, crumpling to the ground, the tranq shot visible as he fell. 
“Ok, let’s go,” Butcher growled. “Frenchie, send down Kimiko to meet us outside the room. Give us a shout if you see that fucker move an inch.”
As the four of them scrambled out of the van Butcher barked orders. “MM and Hughie, go up the backstairs when we get inside, if he wakes up I want eyes on what direction he goes. Edwards, you’re with me.” 
Kimiko caught up with Butcher and Eve as they started up the stairs. They went fast but silently, both with guns drawn, Kimiko trailing behind them. As they reached the hotel room door Butcher paused for a second, holding up his hand, all three listening intently for any movement on the inside. 
“Frenchie,” Butcher whispered into the microphone attached to his earpiece, “we clear?” 
“All clear,” Frenchies' voice came through their earpieces. 
Carefully Butcher opened the door, he’d quickly picked the old style lock, and slid it open. Through the door they saw the supe lying flat on his back where he’d fallen. Guns drawn, they advanced carefully into the room, Butcher in front, and then it all happened very fast. 
McKay jerked awake and sat up, staring at the three of them for a split second before Butcher took aim. Launching himself at Butcher, McKay grabbed his gun arm, making Butcher’s bullet go wide. McKay locked on to Kimiko who seemed to struggle with an invisible force for a few seconds before grabbing Eve’s gun and shooting herself with it. Kimiko jerked away at the last second and the bullet hit her chest, Frenchie’s roar came through their earpieces as she crumpled to the floor. With Kimiko down Eve dove into the small bathroom just inside the entrance, cursing loudly, her gun still on the floor by Kimiko. Through the open door she could hear Butcher turning and advancing on her. The supe was somewhere further into the room but he had eyes on Butcher and Eve knew McKay was now controlling him. 
She scrambled to her feet, launching herself at Butcher just as he rounded the corner to the bathroom, knocking him off balance for a second and slipping past him towards her gun on the floor. But Butcher turned surprisingly fast and grabbed her wrist, yanked her up, slamming her into the opposite wall. Eve felt her head knock hard against the wall and she slid down, fighting unconsciousness. Butcher was right over her and with a desperate kick she managed to push him off just a little bit, enough for her to reach the gun on the floor. But Butcher was too strong, slamming her head back with his elbow he grabbed her wrist, bending it back. Sharp pain shot through her arm as her arms snapped under Butcher’s powerful hands, the gun falling back to the floor as she cried out in agony. He let go of her wrist and his hands closed around her windpipe, pressing hard on her throat. Breathing became impossible, she scrambled, trying to reach  the gun but black dots were dancing at the edges of her vision, she felt herself slipping further. 
A sliver of cool metal grazed her thumb and she scratched at it, grasping the very edge of the gun’s handle. With a final effort she stretched her hand out just a little bit further and it closed around the solid metal. Her wrist screamed in protest as she lifted it up but in the very corner of her eye she saw McKay move closer and she pulled the trigger. 
The shot echoed loud in the small room as her vision shrank to just a small pinprick, darkness taking over.
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