#[this is my first fic guys please talk to me; shoot me an ask; every kind of feedback is needed ♥]

[rimunagenius]

Good Game

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Cheerleader!reader

ʚ word count: 1.3k words

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , otherwise none.

ʚ request: anon ask; “are you down to make a kate martin x cheerleader reader?”

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: here’s another request! i love that you guys are sending requests, and i’m glad that i’m the one you’re choosing to ask to write them! thank you so much for liking what i write, truly unbelievable. Also, I’m making my way through my inbox so from now on, my fics will most likely be request, so feel free to drop some more, but also, please be patient as i continue to do so! enjoy!

"Good job, Martin!" You yelled at you waved your pom poms infront of you, engaging in your cheer, but looking to the side as the Iowa women's basketball team ran down the tunnel for half time.

You gave her the biggest smile, getting one in return. "Thank you!" She grabbed a cup of water and ran down the tunnel following her teammates.

Usually that's how all of your interactions went. A 'good job' or 'you're doing great' here and there. Kate was your favorite on the team. She was tall, pretty, kind, and really damn good at playing ball. What's there not to like about her? You always mentioned her to your cheer friends; they evolved to trying to start up conversations with Kate and bring you into it.

It helped that one of your bestfriends was on the basketball team, too. You and Kylie met on your first day at Iowa University. You two have been inseparable since then.

So every game, you'd get to just a little bit early, hitching a ride with Kylie, and she knew full well why you did it. There was the off chance that you'd talk to Kate. They normally had shoot around, and the cheer team would get there just a half hour later to start warm ups and make sure the music was working.

You valued your time before every home game. That's why Kylie made sure to make you bump into Kate on your way into the big game tonight.

"Hey, Kate!" Kylie shouted to the blonde ahead. She turned around, her long blonde hair twisting as she turned to look at you and Kylie.

"Hey! Oh, Hi!" Kate greeted her teammate, and then greeting you, with a side hug. She was much taller this close than from the sideline to baseline view. Your knees were weak.

"Hey! You excited for tonight?" You beamed, you were also excited for tonight. The big Iowa vs. UConn game for the final four spot.

"Yeah, super. Your cheering tonight?" Kate knew the answer, she just didn't know what to say because you made her nervous. You could tell by the way her cheeks reddened immediately after asking.

"Yeah, I am. That's why I came with Kylie." You turned to point to your friend, only to find she left. You look up ahead and see her walking with Sydney down the hall towards the lockerroom. "Oh, nice." You whispered as you turned back to Kate.

Your cheeks turning pink just by the sheer height difference. "Nice, you're gonna cheer for me right? Your favorite on the team obviously." She bumped your shoulder, making you laugh.

"I will cheer for you, but only out of obligation. Y'know, I didn't get a full ride for nothing." Your sarcasm eliciting a small giggle from the tall blonde.

"Haha, very funny." Kate looked ahead, catching Kylie peak her head out of the lockerroom doorway, immediately blushing harder.

"Kylie's actually my favorite, but i'll make an acception for the cute golden retriever." You smiled up at Kate, tossing a small strand of hair up playfully, her smile widening some more.

"Yay, the cute cheerleader loves me." She bumped your shoulder again, both of you walking into the lockerroom like big grinning idiots. Kylie definitely texts you after you walk out with your headphones she had in her bag, asking how it went.

You walked onto the court, a couple of your teammates here already, smiling at your phone while you told Kylie what happened. You then didn't fail to talk about it all the way until the girls started warms ups. You didn't want to get caught talking about a minor interaction between your literal crush.

"Wait, stop. I think Kate likes you, babe." Your teammate literally stopped you dead in your tracks. You didn't know if you heard that correctly. You hoped you did.

"No, stop it. No she doesn't." You looked over, and sure enough Kate had been looking at you. You both gave eachother a small smile before resuming to your respective duties.

"Girl, she's been looking over here every thirty seconds. Of course she likes you." You smiled softly, thanking the cheer gods that your uniform looked so good on you. Seriously, you were glad you were confident enough to strike up a conversation. She was so pretty you didn't think you'd be able to do it.

"Okay, stop telling me that or that's all i'll think about all night, and I don't want to forget our cheers. Especially the half time performance." You sighed as you walked off the court, to do stationary stretches, while the girls used the full court to do warm up drills.

Now it was your turn to stare. You watched her as she moved in sync with her team. Fully enamored by the way she moved, communicated, and played with her team.

During the game, was no different. You’d watch her play, literally just watched her. Something about her was just so intriguing. You couldn’t look away.

She’d look to you, smile and continue to play her game. She would try and hide the smile when she heard you scream ‘let’s go 20’ and hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She thought about it all the way through the second half, and completely into half time.

She wished she could watch the halftime performance, wanting to watch you do your thing, in that pretty uniform, the skirt that fit you perfectly. You two had seemed to be totally enamored with eachother it was driving you both nuts.

After the game, the team went into the tunnel, for the normal post game talk. You were nervous to sit in, Coach Bluder allowing you to sit and listen since Kylie was your ride and you were just minding your own business. The lockerroom was fairly big, you finding a spot infront of a locker, scrolling through tiktok with your headphones on. You hadn’t known the huddle was over until someone was approaching you.

Looking up, you met the perfect blue eyes yet again. You looked up and saw you were sitting at her locker. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just—“ You started talking and got up when she had already reached for her towel on the top shelf. Your bodies were pressed against eachother, eyes looking into the others, your breath mixing together.

“Oh..uh. Sorry!” Kate said, sidestepping to let you pass. Both your cheeks were red and demeanor suddenly timid and bashful. The things you two did to eachother.

You neeed her number.

She needed your number.

You then stood by Kylie’s locker, waiting for her to finish up, her opting to shower at her home, and then before walking out, you turned around and walked up to Kate. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of Iowa winning the game, the adrenaline running super high. But either way, you were doing it.

It was now or never. You liked her, and wanted to talk to her longer than short conversations before and after games. Getting closer, you tapped her on her shoulder. Her eyes wide, a soft puppy look on her face, god your knees were weak. “Hey!” She smiled as she put her basketball shoes in her bag, sliding her feet into her slides.

“Hey! So, you can totally say no, but I wanted to know if I could get your number?” You smiled nervously at the blonde, her smile growing wider.

“Yeah, of course. Here.” She handed you her phone, letting you type in your number, sending a quick text so you could save her number in your phone. Feeling your phone vibrate, you thank her and handed her her phone back.

Her now standing infront of you, you decided to kiss her cheek. Her face immediately turning a light shade of red. She rubbed the back of her neck softly, before looking down at her feet and then back up to you.

“Good game tonight, Martin.” You turned heel, and walked out the door leaving her absolutely stunned. She could not wait to text you tonight.

[vminizzle]

Thigh riding

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x f.reader

Genre : suggestive!! ( fluffy tones? )

Warnings: nicknames, marking, dry humping , no actual sex that’s it.

words count : 1k

A/N : hello everyone, i wanna thank you guys for the attention you gave to my first writing :) it means a lot to me. Well, I don’t know what it is but here’s my first fic of JK. I know it’s a mess but yea. A reminder that english is not my first language so please don’t mind the mistakes. Enjoy :)

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED ♡

M RATED

You were sitting on your boyfriend’s lap with your arms wrapped around him as you placed small kisses on his neck, hugging him , inhaling the smell of his strong cologne with every breath. You loved doing this, being home alone, enjoying your alone time together, the warmth of your bodies making you feel loved and secured, but today was different, you felt a bit different, you’ve got other things in mind.

You read something recently, and you’ve been craving about trying it with him. You were thinking on how to bring the topic with him without embarrassing yourself. Even if you were dating for a long time now, you were still shy around Jungkook. Of course you guys have good - well let’s say great ‘intimate’ times together, but you were still a little nervous when it came to telling him your sexual needs. You were so timid and you could already feel your cheeks burning.

He was running his fingers through your hair and caressing your sides when he suddenly talk pushing you out of your thoughts "you okay, princess?”

“yea yea, why?” you asked raising your head from his shoulder.

“yea yea, why?” you asked raising your head from his shoulder.

“you stopped kissing me" he pouted playfully. ‘‘plus, you’ve been a bit tense for the past minutes, so i thought something was wrong’’

“oh, sorry” you said with a little smile before sitting next to him.

Jungkook looked at you waiting for you to say something. Noticing how you played with your fingers, he knew you act like that when you wanted to say something you were unsure about or when you were really nervous.

"what’s the matter ? Tell me" he lifted your face gently.

"it’s nothing" you smiled nervously. Jungkook stared at you for a good minute making your gulp. "y/n" he started before cupping your cheeks "you know you can tell me everything".

"i know" you whined "so shoot" he nodded encouraging you.

"i don’t know if I should" you looked down making him tsk "c’mon" he whined this time.

You took a deep breath before spilling it out. ‘‘canIrideyourthigh?’’

He looked at you confused, eyebrows knitted "pardon?" he wasn’t sure about what you said and wanted to check if he heard you correctly .

"tell me again baby, i didn’t understand" he smirked.

You closed your eyes before finding the courage to speak again.

“Can I r-ride your thigh?” you finally asked properly, avoiding his eyes. You could feel your body heating up.

“So you’re ditching my dick for my thighs now?” he laughed teasingly.

Feeling too embarrassed, you covered your face with your hands "I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked. It’s a bad idea anyways" you muttered.

Jungkook widened the space between his legs, allowing you to straddle his thigh. “go ahead” he smirked patting his muscular thigh as he moved your hands away from your red face.

You looked at him hesitantly as he bite his bottom lip expectantly. You decided to do it, trying to ignore your shyness. Jungkook helped you pulling your skirt above your waist as you positioned yourself on his right thigh, you felt the rough fabric of his jeans against your womanhood making you whimper. Your head was already spinning. Holding onto his broad shoulders for support, you began grinding on him. Rolling your hips slowly and carefully. You didn’t really know how to do it, it was all new to you . So you did your best, trying to look like you were confident, not wanting to show him how unsure you were.

"c’mon baby" Jungkook groaned, the view of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh making him excited.

The little noises you made as the friction stimulated your clit through your panties went straight to his dick, blood rushing down there. “fuck” he groaned his cock hardening.

"you’re so hot" he let his head fell back.

He gripped your hips, pulling you harder on him. “does it feel good, baby?”

He moaned as your knee brushed against his bulge.

“y-yes” you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his "feels so good"

“gosh, you look so pretty fucking yourself on my thigh like this" he sucked on your jawline, grazing his teeth against it.

Flexing his muscle, he began bouncing his leg “ah fuck yes Jungkook!” you moaned, lost in pleasure.

“you love that huh? You love riding my thigh like that, don’t you baby?” You nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“Then say it. Let me hear you” his gaze darkening "tell me how much you love it"

“f-fuck I-" you felt your orgasm approaching, the knot in your stomach tightening . Shutting your eyes tightly “yes.. I love riding your thigh” you whispered breathless.

“now be a good girl and cum for me. Hm? Make a mess on my thigh princess” he started to kiss all along your neck, sucking on your soft flesh until it turned purple.

You continued to grind against him, picking up the pace “ah yes yes oh my- fuck! Jungkook!’’

He admired your face, the way your eyes were shut tightly, the way your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth ajar. He listened to every sounds of pleasure you were making trying to memorize them so he could think about them later when you’ll be gone. The hickeys decorating the smooth skin of your neck making him go insane. You were too beautiful like that.

"I’m close" you whimpered as you felt your climax coming. "Cum for me" Jungkook whispered against your lips as one of his hand caressed your side. You moved your hips faster, rubbing yourself harder on him.

You moaned his name loudly as you came into your panties, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“good job, my love”

"you did great" he said before leaving a loving kiss on your cheek.

You fell onto his chest as you came down from your high. He rubbed your lower back , kissing your temple. "Is this one of your kinks? Because damn … that was hot" he said smirking at your tired form in his arms.

"shut up" you slapped the back of his head playfully making him laugh. "I love you" he pecked your shoulder "I love you too idiot".

—

A/N:

Please I know I’m weird af but damn Jungkook’s thighs are so ughh, so muscular and all, i just want to lay and bite on them 💀 sorry. Well, I had to write something about them ahah ,, this fic was actually something I had written a long time ago, i just added and deleted some parts and all but yea. Thank you for reading, I hope you guys liked it :) have a nice weekend everyone.

[sunflower-lilac42]

ꨄ 𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 ; 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 ꨄ

➪ summary: aubrey goes to alex's first home detroit game and when she meets one of his teammates, she realizes that he's going to be different then all the rest

➪ warnings: none? i think

➪ word count: 1.8k

➪ file type: au (once in nine lives) fic

➪ sunny's notes: i am so so so excited for this au, so send in thoughts whenever you please. the biggest help is @slutforseider so if the idea isn't mine it is probably hers tbh. but like i said, i'm very excited for this au so hopefully it'll show with my writing

au masterlist || nhl masterlist || navigation

It wouldn’t be Aubrey’s first hockey game she’s been to, not even her first Red Wings game she’s been to, but it would be the first time seeing her brother play on the team and meeting the team. Alex was her number one supporter and she was his, so when she got the news that her brother would be living practically thirty minutes away from where she went to school, she was more than thrilled. 

She wore her new Alex DeBrincat jersey, loving her name plastered on the back of it. She always wanted to get a jersey for every team her brother played for and sharing their last name saved her money. She met up with Lyndsey two hours prior to when they had wanted to leave there and Archie ran into her arms as soon as he laid his eyes on her, “Hey little man.”

“Auntie Aubrey!”

“You excited to watch daddy play today?” Archie nodded his head ecstatically. 

She looked at the two of them in the mirror, fiddling with his jersey, “And look, we match!”

He grinned up at her, content with staying in her arms for the rest of the night. She talked with Lyndsey until it was time for them to go, both of them getting into their respective cars and making their way to Little Caesars Arena. As they got out of their cars, Archie begged his mom to hold his aunt’s hand on the way in and she agreed, grateful for the moments her sister-in-law was around.

Aubrey talked to Archie excitedly about the game tonight and about Alex playing as they made their way to where Alex had said to meet them. As Archie continued to walk, he grew tired and asked Aubrey to be picked up, which she did without question. Alex stood talking with some of his teammates as the three of them arrived, immediately stopping their conversation to walk over to them.

“Hi!”

Lyndsey kissed him before turning her attention to her son and his aunt, both of them giggling at each other. Alex walked closer to them, poking Archie in the side to gain his attention, “Daddy!”

Aubrey handed him over to her brother, smiling slightly at the interaction, “Hey bud. You excited for tonight?”

“Yeah, me and Auntie Aubrey are going to make fun of you the whole time.” 

She let out a nervous chuckle, “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her brother raised an eyebrow before setting his son down to hug her, “Nice to see you, Aubs.”

“You too, Lex. How’s the team doing?”

“Good, good. I think we got a shot this year.”

She smiled at him, “Good, you deserve it.”

“Come on, let me introduce you to them.”

The three of them followed after him, passing by a few of his teammates along the way before stopping where a large chunk of them were. Alex gained their attention and he looked between his family and his team, “Guys this is my wife Lyndsey and my son Archie. And this is my little sister, Aubrey.”

His eyes darkened before looking at the younger ones of the bunch, “No dating her, no touching her, don’t even smile at her.”

“Lex…” Alex held his hands up in defense before continuing, “And, this is our captain, Dylan Larkin, Ben Chariot, Lucas Raymond, Jake Walman, Simon Edvinsson, and Moritz Seider.”

The three of them nodded and waved, Aubrey trying to keep her emotions in check. But her mind didn’t stop her as she started spitting out random facts at them, “Oh yeah, Lark had a 13.1 shooting percentage, Ben you had 19 points, and Lucas had a 29.4% face off win percentage, Jake had 47 hits, Simon had 13 shot attempts and 5 shots, and Mo had 40 penalty minutes-”

She looked at all of their faces, “I did it again, didn’t I?” Alex nodded, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “It’s fine. I guess I would like them to know you’re nerd now rather than later.”

“Uh hi, I go to Michigan and I’m studying sports management. That isn’t usual, actually yes it is. I tend to blurt out facts when I’m nervous or I’m meeting new people, it just-” She took a deep breath, “Sorry.”

The boys stared at her in awe and Alex wasn’t having it, “Okay pretty and smart, we know. Time to go, you three.”

Aubrey didn’t have to be told twice and immediately rushed out of there with Archie and Lyndsey in tow. The whole game Aubrey felt embarrassed by what had happened, if it was anyone else she would’ve been fine with it, but her brother’s teammates? Her brother’s cute teammates? She felt like she could cry. 

It wasn’t often that she found her brother’s teammates cute, and it was often that the attraction that she felt for them was this strong. Sure she would find the occasional teammate cute, Lukas Reichel, Alex Vlasic, Brandon Hagel, Kirby Dach. But it wasn’t like she was attracted to them, mostly because she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to date them. 

However, this time around, she couldn’t help but find one of them attractive, nor could she help the feelings that she might’ve already had for him. She shook her head as she continued to watch the game and make comments about her brother with Archie, she was not going to let herself fall for one of his teammates, it was forbidden. She couldn’t break the one promise she had made Alex, the one promise she was determined to keep. 

After the game, the three of them met up with Alex once more, Archie taking his post-game nap on Aubrey’s shoulder. Archie truly loved Aubrey, he would always be by her side when she would come over, always asking to hold her hand when they went out, always asking her to do stuff with them. Since he was born, the two were attached at the hip, and everyone knew it wouldn’t change. 

She kept her grip on her nephew firm, not wanting to startle him by any sudden movement. Some of the players came out a little too loud and she immediately shushed them, she wasn’t going to let anyone wake Archie up, if she knew them or not. The players who had passed them apologized softly before moving on, some of them even patting his head gently as they walked out. 

Alex walked out and she cursed mentally when she saw him walking beside her brother. Of course this would happen to her, one little slip up and the Universe was trying to make her pay for it. She smiled at Mo and her brother, still keeping her grip on the boy, “Nice game, guys.”

“Thanks Aubs, how long has he been asleep for.”

“Probably like five minutes before we got here.” She handed him over to him, watching as he and Lyndsey walked out of the arena.

The two stood there awkwardly, none of them sure if they should start a conversation or just wave goodbye and leave. And just as Aubrey was about to do the latter, he spoke up, his German accent making its way to her ears, “So Michigan, huh?”

She nodded, “Yeah, they had a really good sports management program and it was close to a hockey city, so it was kind of fate.”

Mo stuck his hands in his pockets, “I’m assuming you like hockey then?”

“Yeah, both of my brothers played it but I could never. So when I figured out I liked math and that sports had a lot of statistics, I fell in love with it.”

“Math? I’ve never understood it.”

She chuckled, “A lot of people don’t but that’s also kind of what I love about it. It’s like I know something that people don’t in a weird way.”

The two started walking, both of them not wanting their conversation to end despite how awkward it was. Aubrey thought back to earlier and blushed, “I’m sorry about earlier. Or not sorry to you but to myself.”

“It’s okay. It’s really impressive actually. You said I had 40 penalty minutes last year?”

“Yeah.” She took her hands out of her pockets to fiddle with them, trying to focus on something other than her small nerd outburst from before. 

“That’s cool. So what other things do you know about me?”

Her eyes widened and looked up at him, “What?”

“I figured if you knew my penalty minutes from last year there must be some other things you know about me, hm?” He smirked, stopping and looking down at her. 

“Oh, uh.” The blood rushed into her cheeks, turning them a color close to maroon. 

“C’mon, you can tell me.”

“You had 5 goals and 37 assists, a total of 42 points. 3 of them were on even strength, one was a power play goal, and one was a short handed goal. You had 187 shots and 355 total shot attempts, leaving you with a 3.7 shooting percentage which was less from the year before.”

“Hmm, cute.” She looked down and waited for him to move, and once he did she followed him. 

He walked her to her car, leaning against the back driver side door, watching as she fiddled with her keys, “So…”

“So… what?”

“Can I have your number?”

“Bold aren’t you?” She finally unlocked her door, pulling it open and throwing her bag on the passenger seat, “Also I thought my brother said no dating.”

“Who said anything about dating? I can’t befriend a pretty girl?”

“Oh, um. Okay then.” She honestly thought it was embarrassing how easily it was for him to make her flustered. It only took him to call her pretty or for his hand to flex and her cheeks were flushed. 

He handed her his phone, watching her carefully as she typed her number into the new contact she had made. When she handed him his phone back, he grinned slightly and patted her head, “I’ll text you when I get home.”

And then he walked off, leaving her a stumbling and blushing mess. She got in her car and sat staring out into the practically empty parking lot of the arena. Driving back to her dorm room she listened to anything to get her mind off of the interaction she just had but she couldn’t. Everything she listened to reminded her of the way he dressed, the way he smiled, the way his eyes twinkled. God, what was she turning into?

She got back to her dorm and changed into her pajamas. She flopped onto her bed, talking a little bit with her roommate and then scrolled aimlessly on her phone. Just as she was going to put her phone down she got a notification from an unknown number, “ I hope you didn’t give me a fake number, pretty girl. Because I was really looking forward to texting you."

Yeah, she was fucked.

[veren-cos]

in response to last ask:

Ye I read that one. It was great (made me cry /pos)!! I was wondering if you mayhaps would do an extended fic of Sebastian comfort with it? If not, no pressure :)

Hope you have a good day!! :D

I'm here for you

Sebastian x reader who hasn't eaten enough

Tw: unhealthy eating habits / un-named eating disorder. If you struggle with similar topics please reach out to someone like a family member, friend, or doctor. Things will be okay, and help is available.

It was time for breakfast. You had woken up right on time, and began to make scrambled eggs and pancakes. You knew how to make them exactly how Sebastian wanted. So once it was done, you slowly woke him up and got him to the table.

..Which was when he noticed your plate was far more empty than his. Sebastian didn't eat much compared to the average guy, but it was enough for him. However, you were far more active, and generally ate more than what was on your plate.

"You feeling alright?" He questioned. "I know it's not my place to comment, but it feels like you've been eating less and less recently. It's concerning.." Sebastian looks straight at you, unsure if this is how he should be asking.

"Yes!" You shoot a false smile a him, "just, uh, haven't been that hungry! Plus I snacked as I was making it haha. So actually, I think I should get to work."

You abruptly stood up, causing the table to shift. The water you had poured came dangerously close to spilling over, but settled down as you walked away.

You knew you needed to eat, but something about it just felt *wrong*. Yes, you felt hungry, but it wasn't as bad as it used to be. It felt numb-er than before. The sting no longer a stab, but a prickle. You knew you shouldn't act like this. You knew this wasn't good in the long run. But how can you stop?

It had been nearly 3 days since you last had a proper meal. You were starting to run out of excuses to Sebastian, but somehow managed to find new reasons every time. You ate while making it! You had lunch with your friends! You ate before he woke up. You'll just eat later. Each excuse in and out of the book.

But now he was noticing. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? You had finished your work today, and was sitting on the couch. Sebastian came to cuddle next to you, which had become the norm after getting married.

"Babe?" He called up from your lap. You merely hummed in response, waiting for him to continue. "Babe I think we should talk about this morning"

And you tensed up again. "I told you earlier, I ate while making the food! And I just haven't been hungry recently."

Sebastian shifted to sitting up. "Yes, okay. But that doesn't explain how for the last 3 days you haven't eaten a single thing. Your friends said you never even came over when you said you had lunch with them! They said that they saw you heading up to the mines."

He sighed and turned to look you dead in the eyes. He picked up your hands as he spoke, "I'm not mad at you. Sweetheart, I just want to know you're okay. You have to eat."

"Sebastian I know what I'm doing. I've got things under control it's fine." You tried to shake his hands off but he only held onto you tighter.

"My love you clearly don't. It isn't fine. Just look at your hands!" You hadn't noticed, but the lack of proper sustience was weighing on you. Your hands had a shake to them. "I just need you to tell me what's wrong, or how I can help. I'm here for you. but I can't do anything if you don't tell me things."

You sighed. "Sebastian it's okay."

"No it's not okay and we are going in a circle now!" He shouted at you. "Repeating our points will get us no where so either you tell me what's going on or I'll bring Harvey into this."

God that was the last thing you wanted. You didn't want to bring a doctor into this. Through shaky breaths you started, "fine... fine."

Sebastian calmed himself and squeezed your hands. "Okay, thank you."

"This is just the one thing I have. It's not the first time it's happened. I just.." You huffed, "Why is this so hard!! It shouldn't be this hard to talk about it!"

"Hey shh shhh, it's okay keep going." Sebastian waited patiently before you began again.

"I've been really stressed recently? It's very overwhelming to go from someone at a terrible desk job hating themselves to go to a new farmer in an extremely tight knit community. It's weird. Everything is going so much better, where it feels like I'm just waiting for it to fall apart. So I started freaking out! I can't control when people will leave. When my life will change again. But I can control this. It started.. a while ago. Just skipping breakfast or lunch every once in a while. But recently I've just been. Eating nothing??? And it doesn't even feel bad. And that's the problem! I know it should but I just can't seem to stop. I know I need to eat. I know! And I was trying so hard to keep it under control but now you know and I'm freaking out and Sebastian I think I need help."

The more you spoke the faster you got. But once you were done you felt yourself be pulled into a tight hug.

"Alright. There you go shhh it's okay" Tears started to pool in your eyes, slipping down to the end of your face. "It's okay, I'm here for you. I can take over food things for a while. Okay?" He rubbed circles into your back as he spoke. "You don't have to think about it, I'll take care of it. After a while, we can try having you make yourself food again. But right now I need to just make sure you are eating. Okay?"

"Okay.." You tried to stop crying but the tears just kept coming. "I'm sorry Sebastian."

"Shh don't apologize. I'm sorry I yelled earlier."

"So you can apologize but now me?" You laughed through the tears.

He lightly smacked the back of your head, "shut up I was trying to be nice."

"..thank you."

"Of course."

Masterlist

An* so uh I kinda went off the rails a bit in there but the overall theme of the request stayed the same- sorry it took so long, but I hope you liked it!!! And I hope you have a good day too <3

Please send me requests y'all! I mostly write hurt/comfort but i also write fluff!!! They might take me forever but more often than not I'll write it, and it gives me ideas and options! lol

[akoyaxs]

Can you do a fic abt Aonung and human reader? I was thinking that they start off rlly rocky cause you know how he acted around lo'ak and kiri because of their humanish features, and she thinks hes a skxawng and he thinks shes a freak?

and then 😏

I love jealous Aonung and protective Aonung so maybe he's spent all his time being cold to her and she's just gotten used to it but then something happens and he's suddenly always there?

thank you<3

Yes ofc! I'm so excited, this is my first request!!!!

Ask and you shall receive my darling- just give me a few days and I will publish it ♡, for now: enjoy the little synopsis and teaser of 『Tunutu』 ᵕ̈

A shout of laughter from outside brings you back to attention, and you set down the paste you had been mixing on a small table before quietly moving over to peek out. Just as you stick your small head out, you find yourself suddenly bumped backwards as several figures walk into the healing marui.

Folding your arms and frowning at the rowdy boys, you watch them as they comfortably space out around the marui. You recognise them instantly- the three skxawngs that Aonung always seemed to hang out with.

"Can I help you?" you ask, trying not to raise your brows when Koro laughs and shoves Nashvi forward to speak to you.

"Yeah," Nashvi grins stupidly. "Us and Aonung were out by the reef when an akula attacked, and we got a few injuries."

You can't help raising your brows at this. There are only several small scratches across the boys bodies, the worst only looking five inches long on Ongu's leg. But you have a job, and you aren't about to refuse to help Aonung's friends.

"Alright, sit down," you say tiredly, reaching up to lightly lead Nashvi to the woven mat you heal on.

As you turn to gather some more ointment, you can hear the three boys chuckling stupidly behind you, but when you turn, their smiles are quickly hidden and they don't make eye contact with each other.

Shrugging off your discomfort and annoyance, you lift up Nashvi's hair to apply the ointment to the scratches on his back.

They are not easy patients. They're whiny when you touch their miniscule, pointless little scratches, and they chuckle and grin shiftily at each other every time you move. It's an awkward interaction with each, and finally you can't take the silence anymore.

"What were you doing out by the reef?" you ask, in a desperate attempt to make conversation.

"Aonung wanted to hunt," Koro shrugs.

"Where is Aonung?"

They all grin again at your question, and you straighten up and frown.

"Missing your boyfriend are you?" Ongu leers.

You straighten up instantly, a frown fixed on your small face and your fist clenched slightly around the bowl.

"What are you talking about?" you say coolly, turning away from the boys under the pretence of collecting more herbs to add to the ointment.

"You're pining after him," Koro grins. "It's so obvious, all the little looks you shoot him, batting your eyelashes whenever he's around. You're so cool and all with other guys, but as soon as Aonung's around you're acting like a little lovestruck prolemuris."

"I do not," you say hotly, forgetting to act cool and hide the deep flush across your cheeks.

"Please," Nashvi scoffs. "You couldn't be more obvious if you tried."

Your face is growing hotter and hotter, and when you turn around, you find that the three boys have crept slightly closer, so now you're stuck between them.

"I don't have a crush on Aonung," you lie, knowing full well that you aren't convincing anyone. "I don't even like him."

"These little outfits say otherwise," Koro grins, reaching out to pinch your hip.

You jerk away from the contact, the bare skin of your hip between your top and low skirt burning slightly from his touch and the accusation of his words.

"Fuck off," you grumble, pushing at his hands as he reaches towards you again.

"What happened to the sweet little girl whenever he's around?"

"She's about to do worse than those little scratches if you don't stop touching me," you growl, hoping you sound braver than you feel.

Hot mortification is spreading through your body. Had you really been that obvious?

Koro, Ongu and Nashvi are just laughing stupidly, watching you grow more and more flustered as you try to figure out what to say, or at least how to get away.

"You are rude skxawngs," you snap. "I helped you out, now leave me alone."

"Why?" Nashvi grins. "We're just having a little fun with you, tawtute."

"Why do you wear such big clothes anyway?" Ongu leers. "I know they're getting smaller for Aonung, but if you want his attention you should just take it all off."

You growl as they reach for your clothes again.

"Tell Aonung that-"

"Tell me what?" a deep voice says from the entrance.

Immediately, all four of your gazes flick to see Aonung leaning against the entrance, a small frown pinching between his brows as he stares at his friends.

"That you need to find better friends," you huff, reaching to flatten your hair and pull your skirt down.

"She's just being grumpy," Koro laughs. "We were having a fun conversation with her."

"Yeah, it was real fun," you snap, flushing crimson as Aonung's gaze flicks back to you. "Especially when you kept touching me."

Aonung's frown deepens when you feel his gaze pass over the redness their pinches left over your hip, and you brush your hair out of your face.

"Okay, I fixed up your little scratches," you scowl to Koro, Ongu and Nashvi, as Aonung just stares dully at you. "You can fuck off now."

"Careful with your mouth," Nashvi grins. "You aren't as attractive when you aren't smiling, tawtute."

"Get out," you growl, straightening to your full height, but still shorter than their crouched figures.

They just laugh stupidly, and you're growing more and more flustered and annoyed. You are torn between wanting to shout and curl up in a ball and cry until they get uncomfortable and leave, when Koro pulls the last straw.

"It's a shame that such a pretty little thing has no humour," he grins to his friends. "You know I'd-"

"Out," you shout.

They don't look at all as though they're going to leave, but then Aonung shoots them a certain sort of look you miss, because your heart is pounding fast and angry tears are stinging your eyes.

You're mortified, that they knew about your crush, that they managed to get so far under your skin, that everyone had so little respect for you that they only listen when Aonung tells them to do something.

As they file out, you can hear them snickering to each other, and their gazes blazing on your bowed head as they walk away. 

"You can leave too," you say off-handedly, turning away so your back is to Aonung.

"Oh?" Aonung asks, his voice deep and amused. "You're going to kick me out of my own mum's marui?"

"Yes," you grumble, sitting down and glaring at him. "Fuck off."

Aonung just laughs, his massive body still leaning against the entrance as he stares down at you, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Are you alright?" he asks, once he stops laughing. You frown at the slight concern in his voice before glaring up at him.

"Yes I'm fine," you snap. "Now are you done?"

Aonung just stares for a few more seconds before he pushes off the wall and walks over to you. 

Oh Eywa's just playing a fucking game with you right now. Aonung reaches out, lightly taking your small head in his hand and gently tilting your face up towards him with a soft hand.

"Is what they said true?" he asks quietly. 

"Aren't you the one that finds my crush obvious as fuck?" you snap.

But you don't pull away, and you both know it. Instead, you just stay put little a stupid good girl and stare up at him, waiting for what he's about to do.

"I'm fucking pathetic, I know," you whisper. "I have to work my ass off just to get the tiniest bit of recognition, and this is the longest we've ever spoken. All you do is glare at me from other sides of the village, and I still liked you."

"You're not," Aonung says. "Pathetic, I mean. They're just skxawngs."

"They're your friends," you point out. "They're the ones that knew I liked you, that just come and fucking taunt me and touch me and-"

"Let me see," Aonung cuts you off.

You scowl at him and try to push him away, but he just easily grabs your wrist and peers around you to see your hips, where the mark is still red against your skin.

"It's not a big deal," you growl. "I just don't need shit for having a stupid crush. No one ever needed to know and it wasn't hurting anyone. If I knew what skxawngs you and your friends are, I'd never like you."

"This skirt is thin," is all Aonung says. "And short. Tawtute clothing is strange, but this one is small compared-"

"It was for you!" you snap. "All the stupid dressing up and acting nice and being sweet and trying to be pretty just so you would stop glaring and look at me for ONCE!"

Aonung's frown deepens slightly, like he's confused, like you aren't making any sense. Stupid alien boys, so oblivious to everything around them.

"I am looking at you," he says quietly.

"No," you hiss. "You're looking down on me like always, just because I'm a human-"

Your voice dies in your throat when Aonung instantly sits beside you, his hands picking you up as though you weigh nothing and placing you gently in his massive lap.

Your faces are a foot apart, your hands immediately falling to his shoulder to steady yourself, an unnecessary action given that he's easily holding you by your waist. 

"Better?" he asks sincerely, as though he genuinely thought this would help.

You can hardly breathe over the pounding of your heart. You are nervous and pissed and terrified and also fucking horny.

Oh Eywa, how is he doing this- just instantly making you forget everything that happened by placing you on his lap and staring at you with those large blue eyes.

"What are you doing here Aonung?" you say tiredly.

His ears prick up at the sound of his name, the first time he's heard you speak it. You can hardly miss the sway of his tail behind you.

"Injury," he shrugs.

You scoff, and he turns to frown at you.

"I am injured," he frowns. "I went to my mother and she told me to come to you."

"She did?" you ask, confused. "If you're hurt, why would she tell you to come to me?"

"So I could hear your great love confession?" Aonung shrugs, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You growl and make to stand up, but his hands keep you firmly planted in his lap.

"Trying to leave now?" he asks. "Don't you want to help me paksalin?"

"Don't call me that," you hiss. 

"You don't like it?" Aonung asks, looking confused.

"You're being mean," you say finally. "Everyone was right about you- you're a skxawng playboy."

"Playboy?" Aonung asks, sounding out the human word with confusion.

"Yeah," you say. "Like a slut."

Aonung laughs in surprise, brows raising at your annoyance with him.

"I thought you were all meek and sweet," he says finally.

"Not anymore," you grumble. "Cat's out of the bag sweetie, so I can go back to being a bitch again. Now let me go so I can help you out."

To your surprise, he instantly obeys, letting his arms drop to his sides so you can clamber out of his lap and collect your paste again. When you turn back, you notice the injury.

"You're hurt."

It's a blunt statement, and you're pointing out the obvious. Aonung has a no shit look on his face, before he notices your concern.

"It's alright," he says gently. "I just got a little scraped by the akula."

"Aonung, there's an akula tooth stuck in your arm," you say, instantly kneeling beside him.

"There is?" he says, sounding interested. "Huh."

"Huh?" you hiss incredulously. "There is a three inch tooth stuck in your arm and you say HUH?"

Aonung just shrugs, and you crouch down to study it, before gently cleaning it up. He hisses a little when you first wipe over the wound, but he just grits his teeth and sits still with patience his skxawng friends could never possess.

"I should probably take this out," you say, once you've wiped all the blood that you can manage to, and placing a comforting, steady hand on the strong muscles of his shoulder.

"Fine," he grumbles.

"I'll be gentle," you promise. "It'll come nice and easy."

"That's what I want to hear," he says, smirking.

Your mouth parts in amused incredulity, and you lightly smack his shoulder as he turns his head to grin cheekily at you.

"Stay still," you instruct. "Straighten up like this, and try not to move too much. Now, just breathe."

Trying to ignore the very persistent flow of blood as you gently grab the top of the tooth, you start to very slowly pull it out.

"Ow," he hisses, his hand instantly jumping to take yours.

"Sorry," you say, giving his own hand a reassuring squeeze, and he quickly shakes his head and swallows.

"I'm all good, just pull it out fast."

"Is that also what you like to hear?" you ask teasingly, and he laughs a little.

His laugh quickly turns into a groan of pain as you use his amusement as a distraction and yank the tooth out.

"Fuck," he hisses under his breath.

"Good job," you say, as though you're treating a child and patting his head like a good boy. "Here, you can keep the tooth as a souvenir."

"Tawtute," he says gently, before you can leave. 

"Yeah?"

"You aren't pathetic, liking me-"

"Yeah, you're very handsome and cool and hot, I get it," you say, rolling your eyes. "Listen Aonung."

And he does, looking up at you like a little puppy sitting on the woven floor, waiting patiently for you to speak.

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

Anyway, that's a start to what I've written just to stir some attention (hopefully 🙏), and I hope you like what I'll publish in a few days 💗

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist as well 😁

[lovableapocalypse]

an encounter

bassist!remus x fem!reader

wc- 1.1k

warnings- alcohol, jealousy, sirius being a twat

a/n- i was listeing to t1975 and m.o.n.e.y played and the line "and i cant believe that were talking about him" played and inspired something in my brain. also writing last night motivated me again a bit. buttttt once again this is not the long chapter (their love confession) that ive been working on. this is just a silly pre- together fic of them being stupid. love u all and i appreciate every one of u.

Remus’ glare was burning into your spine. For once though, you didn’t seem to notice him. You were leaning on the local bar’s counter talking to the new bartender. You had been sent to get the next round and what had started as a friendly conversation had turned quickly into flirting. 

You all had been studying for your upcoming exams and decided a much needed break was appropriate. How you ended up at the pub was out of your control, you’d suggested a quick coffee run. But you’d lost the last round of pool and were therefore sent to get refills. 

The bartender was cute. Not exactly your type, seeing as your type was currently sending dirty looks to the guy. Remus was oblivious to your feelings for him, yet you rarely let yourself talk to other guys because you were so focused on him. When the guy across from you sent the first flirty remark your immediate reaction was to shoot him down, but for once you acted on your second instinct and decided to flirt back. 

Flirting wasn’t exactly a skill you had mastered, but it was fun to banter with the guy and you were honestly into it at this point. He had placed your drinks on the bartop but continued his conversation with you while there were no customers. He was talking about some crazy order he had to make earlier in the night and you were laughing along.

Remus had witnessed the whole encounter. You were shit at pool so it was no surprise you had been the one to get the next round, he was just curious when it was taking twice as long. He didn’t mean to shoot daggers at the guy, but when he saw your face heat up and your laugh grow louder he couldn’t help it. 

Sirius noticed his irritation right away and huffed a laugh as he leaned closer to him, “Are you gonna do something?”

“What?” Remus shot back. 

“Are you going to do something?” Sirius reiterated. 

“About what?”

“Jesus. That.” He waved his finger between you and the bartender. 

“Why would I do something?” Remus tried to play his obvious discomfort off, but Sirius saw right through him. 

“Because you’re quite literally in love with her.”

“Shut up.”

“See. No denying.”

Remus lightly shoved Sirius and shook his head, “What would I even say? ‘Oh hi can you please stop flirting with the girl I have no right to get jealous over’?”

“You should add ‘because I’m too pussy to ask her out even though she clearly returns my affections.’” He smiled and Remus gave him a blank look.

“Piss off. For fucks sake.” He returned under his breath.

“No, I'm serious. She never shuts the fuck about you. Just go over there and offer to help her with the drinks or something. I want my beer anyway.” He pointed at you again and nudged his head in your direction. 

“Fine.” Remus sighed, placing his pool stick down and moving towards the bar. 

His steps were quick and he glanced back at Sirius who made a shooing motion at him. Remus itched the back of his neck as your frame got closer and closer. He made his way to your figure and your laugh quickly made him regret his decision. Who was he to stop you from flirting? But you spotted him and turned towards him, touching his arm. 

You smiled and turned back to the bartender, introducing him, “This is Remus.”

“Ah, nice to meet you.” The guy nodded at him. 

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” Remus awkwardly smiled. 

“Rem this is Liam. He just started here this week.” You raised your brows, making conversation. You left your hand on Remus’ upper arm and neither of you acknowledged it, even though the touch was sending similar butterflies up your spines. 

“Oh nice,” Remus replied, “Like it?” 

“Yeah, so far it’s alright.” Liam smiled at you when he said that and Remus had to restrain from visibly cringing. You returned the smile and giggled. You actually giggled. He looked between you and Liam and tried to let it go, but couldn’t. 

“Right. Well Sirius wants his beer so,” He tried to end the conversation and was scared you would tell him to just take the drinks, but luckily you went along with him. 

“Right ‘course.” You laughed and moved your hand from his arm to reach for a few drinks. 

“Thanks, Liam.” You sent him a small smile as you spun around. Remus sent him a tight-lipped one and followed you. 

Sirius was smirking as you approached and patted Remus on the back when he handed him his drink. Remus glared but couldn’t help but huff at the whole situation. 

Lily rushed over to you and as you handed her the drink she ordered, she spoke, “That guy was so into you. He stared at your arse the whole time you walked back over here.”

You grimanced, “Lovely.”

“No, no. That’s a good thing. You could get your mind off you know who.”

“Lily, kindly, shut the fuck up.”

She put her hands up in false surrender and you turned, giving James his drink. You heard her whisper again, “Remus was so jealous though, it was hysterical.”

“He was?” You spoke too quickly. 

“Yes, badly. He was squinting so hard his eyebrows were literally touching.” She motioned between her own brows, laughing.

You glanced back at him and he caught your eye, blushing. You smiled and turned away. 

“He was actually jealous?”

“Yes, love. Very,” Lily smiled, “You two are the most oblivious people in the world I swear.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. 

James and Peter started the next game of pool and while you were waiting you stood next to Sirius.

“The bartender was cute.” He said. Remus was on the other side of you and spun his head towards Sirius at his words. 

You nodded, “Yeah he was alright.”

“I think he’s really into you.” As he spoke he looked at Remus and smirked knowingly. 

“Really?” You asked. “I don’t know, maybe he’s just being friendly.”

Remus cleared his throat, “Probably. Didn’t he just start working here? Just making friends with the customers, ya know.”

“I don’t know Moony, that looked pretty flirty to me. Y/n/n?” 

“I- I’m not good at gauging these things- I mean flirting is not my thing so I wouldn’t know.” You looked between the two boys shaking your head, oblivious to Sirius’ instigating. 

Remus mouthed Fuck off when your head was turned and Sirius laughed. It was his turn to go and you spoke to Remus as Sirius played, “He’s not my type anyway.” You glanced up at him and he nodded his head.

“That’s good.” He answered. 

His response made you shy. ‘That’s good’ is it? You turned, hiding your smile and flush. God you two were idiots, he was jealous. And you were secretly glad he was.  

[justmystyles]

He's Not Me

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.6k

summary: you introduce Harry to the guy you're seeing, and you see a side of him you've never seen before and are shocked by his reasoning.

a/n: this was a dream i had the other night about frat boy Harry, i have been thinking about it nonstop, so i decided to flesh it out and make it a fic!

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Hey, earth to Y/N?” 

“Oh, sorry,” you looked up from your phone and examined the suit that Harry was modeling for you. Your nose scrunched in disapproval. “I don’t love it.” 

Harry let out an exaggerated sigh and moved back behind the dressing room curtain. “What has you so distracted anyway? I haven’t seen you in a month and a half, and you can’t keep your nose out of your phone.” 

“It’s uh… Jon, that guy I told you about.” You say sheepishly. 

Harry rolled his eyes before peeking his head over the top of the door. “Oh right, your boyfriend.” He said in a teasing tone. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said defensively. “I mean, I don’t think he is. I don’t know.” 

He steps back out from behind the doors, wearing another suit and shaking his head. “You might want to figure that out, love.” He does a quick spin, holding his arms out with a flourish. 

You smile and give him a thumbs up. “That’s the one.” As he returns to the changing area to put his street clothes back on, you call out to him. “He’s actually not far from here. Do you mind if he meets up with us for ice cream?” 

Harry glanced over the door and pouted at you. “But this is our time.” 

You giggle at his dramatics. “Please! I want you to meet him, I think you guys would get along really well.” 

Harry took his time changing, allowing himself a moment to let his emotions pass. While he was on the road, he realized that his constant thoughts of you were much more than just friendly. He had every intention of coming back and asking you out. But those hopes were dashed when you sent him an excited rambling text about finally having your first date. And your first kiss. 

It was bad enough that he was stuck with his feelings while you gushed about him, now you wanted to parade him around. But you were so excited, and happy. All he wanted was for you to be happy, so he agreed to the meeting. 

You stood outside the ice cream shop, talking with Harry when you saw him approaching, the point you were making suddenly lost as you brushed past Harry and into his arms. After an embrace that lasted much longer than Harry wanted it to, you took Jon’s hand in yours and brought him over to meet Harry. 

“Harry, this is Jon. Jon, this is Harry.” You said with a wide smile. 

Jon extended his hand to Harry. “It’s so great to finally meet you. Y/N talks about you all the time.”

“Of course she does, we’re best friends.” You were a little surprised by Harry’s snarky tone as he took Jon’s hand. 

You watched on as the handshake continued for what seemed to be an uncomfortable amount of time, as the two men held eye contact. 

“Okay,” you say loudly, clapping your hands. “Let’s go get some ice cream!” You take Jon’s hand and lead him toward the door. You look over your shoulder, shooting Harry a questioning look and he simply shrugs in response. 

The three of you get in line, looking over the flavors as you wait. 

“Whatever you want, on me babe.” Jon said, snaking his hand around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. 

Harry moved to stand in front of both of you. “Not a chance, keep your money Jon. It’s on me today.”

“You don’t have to–”

“Please,” Harry interrupted Jon. “I want to. Besides, it’s not like I don’t have enough money for a couple of ice cream cones. Hell, get a sundae if you want.”

“Harry!” You chastised. You had never seen him like this before, and you didn’t like it. You gave Jon an apologetic smile and stepped out of his arms, pulling Harry to the side. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just trying to make a good impression.” He said innocently.

“Well try harder.” You said before going back to Jon. 

When Harry rejoined you, he stayed pretty quiet, only glancing over at the two of you a couple of times. He wasn’t initiating any conversation, and when he would respond to you or Jon, it was in clipped, one word answers. 

You got your ice cream and took a seat at one of the outside tables. Jon talked about work, and asked Harry a bit about his life on tour. You were seated between the two of them and couldn’t help but feel an air of tension between the three of you. You were sure it had to do with Harry. 

“So Jon,” Harry spoke up after one of the many awkward silences. “Do you have any tattoos?” 

“Oh, not yet. But I have one in mind, I’m just not sure when I’m going to get it.” 

“Cool,” Harry said, practically scoffing at Jon. “I have a bunch.” He put his ice cream down on the table and lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his tattooed torso and arms. He began pointing out each one and telling their stories. 

You sunk lower in your seat, completely embarrassed by the actions of your so-called friend. You had never seen him act like this before.

After Harry’s tattoo tour, Jon stood from his seat. “I should take off.” You could tell by his demeanor that he was uncomfortable, and couldn’t get away fast enough. You all said your goodbyes, and you promised to give Jon a call later. 

Once Jon was out of site, and earshot, you turned around and glared at Harry. “What the hell is wrong with you? I finally found a guy that likes me and treats me well and you’re on his case every chance you get. Friends don’t do stuff like that.” 

“You could do better.” Harry stated, his voice quiet.

“Oh really? I’m a fat eighteen year old virgin–” 

“I hate when you say that about yourself, you’re beautiful.” Harry tried to interject, but you were so upset that his words didn’t register, and you continued on.

“I just had my first kiss like a month ago. Guys aren’t exactly lining up at my door, so how am I supposed to do better?” You finally paused for a breath, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You could be with me.” You stared in shocked silence, never expecting those words to come out of his mouth. “I realized while I was away how much I like you, that I want to be more than friends. I hate that it took so long for me to realize, because now I don’t get to be your first kiss.” 

“What?” 

“I wanted to be your first kiss, but I blew it.” He slid his chair closer, taking a deep breath. “I would settle for being your next kiss. And maybe some of your other firsts.” He smiled shyly at the thought. 

You stared at him, searching his eyes, trying to figure out the joke. There was nothing but sincerity in his gaze. “You’re serious? This isn’t some stupid joke?” 

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” 

You sat looking at each other in complete silence. Harry waiting for you to say something, and you trying to process everything that had just happened. 

“Oh,” was all you managed to say before standing and walking away. Leaving Harry scared and confused. 

An hour later, Harry was sitting in his hotel room, absentmindedly flipping through the channels, not paying much attention to the screen. All he could think about was you, and the possible damage that he had just done to your relationship. 

After you left, he texted and called, but you didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he confessed his feelings, but you walking away without any indication of how you felt about his declaration wasn’t even a consideration. 

There was a knock at the door, but he ignored it, he wanted to be alone. But it didn’t stop, it only got more insistent. He stood with a groan and went to answer the door. His eyes went wide when he saw you on the other side. 

“Okay.” Your voice was quiet, your hands fidgeting out of nerves. 

“What?”

“I’ll be with you… I want to be with you.” You took a deep breath. “I always have, I just figured I never had a shot.” 

His brow furrowed in confusion. “How could you think that? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. Especially me.” He stepped up to you, cupping your cheek in his hand. “But… you left?” 

“I uh… I went to end things with Jon.” You started getting nervous and rambling. “It turns out first breakups aren’t as fun as the other firsts, and I just didn’t…”

Harry chuckled as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, but he quickly ran his tongue along the seam of your lips, you parted them, granting him access. His free hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue explored your mouth. 

You finally pulled apart, resting your foreheads together. 

“Wow,” you sighed. 

“I know it’s no first kiss…”

“It was, though.” He looked at you curiously. “It was the first kiss that mattered.” 

Harry smiled, pressing his lips to yours for one more quick kiss before leading you into his room. “And just so you don’t have any uncertainty this time,” he starts as you take a seat together on the couch. “If we’re doing this, I’m your boyfriend.”

[littlexscarletxwitch]

── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲

paring: florence pugh x gn!reader

tag(s): fluff, flo being a simp over r, my woman here has no game

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited, not proofread, language

word count: 0.8k

note: I was actually writing a request but I soft of diverted from the main plot and came up with this little fic. It's not that good but I feel like it's cute, so here you go. A short fic so you guys don't forget about me (I'm so dramatic). I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you enjoy! <3

note 2: Would anyone be interesting in a masterlist??

requests are open! + check my rules here <3

Florence had one rule when working that she always made sure to follow: never ever date a coworker. 

No matter how pretty they were, how smart they were or how interesting they seemed to be, she never ever dared to break her most sacred rule. Starting a relationship with a coworker was problematic. It would always get messy and there would be tension around the set, and things would get weird and complicated. And she couldn’t risk having to work in that kind of atmosphere. Not when she would commit one hundred percent to every single one of her projects, not when she had to give the very best of her, not when she had to be flawless. But all of that came crashing down once she met you. 

There was something about you that caught Florence’s eyes the second she laid her eyes on your frame. She didn’t know if it was your pretty face, or the way your eyes would light up when talking about the movie you two were working on, or the sound of your laugh. But there was something so familiar yet unknown about you, and she needed more of that comforting feeling. 

At first she tried to convince herself that all she wanted was to be friends with you, because she wasn’t about to break her golden rule. But the more alone time she would spend with you, the harder it was to keep telling herself that same lie. She just couldn't’ stay friends with you, she didn’t want to. The more she got to know you the harder they were to keep those feelings at bay. The harder it became for her to not blush when you complimented her looks for the movie, or that warm feeling she would get in her stomach everytime your hand would brush hers, or that peacefulness she would feel by just hearing your laugh. 

But the problem was that she didn’t know who you felt. You were touchy with her, but you were touchy with everyone. You laughed at her jokes, but you would find even the dumbest dad joke hilarious. So she had to take matters into her own hands. She had to grow some ovaries and just ask you out. Even if that meant she was going to break her golden rule, even if she wasn’t sure you would feel the same. Besides, shooting was almost over, so if things didn’t work out her way she just had to wait one more week and she would never see your stupid pretty face again. Although that wasn’t at all what she actually wanted. 

She decided to wait for the lunch break. The only break that would have since you were the First Assistant Director, an extremely tiring job if someone would ask her. But she knew that it was what you loved doing. Not an assistant but it would eventually lead to being a director and that was all you aspired to be in life. 

Lucky for her anytime the bell announcing the lunch break would ring. Florence counted from one to three in her head and then the loud piercing sound filled her ears. She quickly made her way to where you were standing. 

“Hey there!” she internally cursed herself once she heard the high pitched in her words.

“Flo, hey. Is everything okay? Do you need something?” she smiled at your words, always being the caretaker on set. Well, after all that was you job. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Everything's fine. I just need to ask you something. But it’s more of a personal question, not work related. But it’s not personal for you, I mean, it is since you are involved. But it’s more of a personal question for me because I’m the one asking you. Does that make sense? I’m not making any sense, am I? It’s just—.”

“Hey,” you cut her off, placing your hand on her shoulders trying to calm her down. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” she quickly mumbled so low that you couldn’t hear the words she said. “What I’m trying to say is that,” she took a deep breath. She was being stupid, this was not how she planned this whole thing to go. “I really like you Y/n. And I would love to take you out sometime.” 

There she said it. it was said. Out in the world and she couldn’t take it back. She didn’t want to though. No matter your answer, it felt good to confess her feelings. 

Your hands moved down from her shrouds to find her hands, giving them a squeeze and your thumbs triling circles in them. 

“I would love to go out with you. I was actually going to ask you earlier, but I chickened out,” you shyly admitted.

“You were?”

“How could I not? You are something really special Florence Pugh. It would be a mistake to just let you walk away.”

A smile found its way to Florence's lips. Maybe breaking her golden rule wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was exactly what she had to do.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[corn-fanfiction]

SAVIOUR COMPLEX (PT. 6)

(Pt. 5)

Rated: M

TAGS: language/past abuse/Mark Hoffman being a c*p/reader is normal and wants a normal life/Mark is protective bc it's his job but he's also problematic/because he's a c*p/Detective Gibson

**NOTE: Hey guys. Thank you so much for interaction with this fic, and I’m seeing a lot of new followers. I love that!! But I really need to stress right now how I do not support/endorse C*stas M*ndylor as a person or his opinions. He’s racist and I enjoy and only enjoy Mark Hoffman’s character. If you are a C*stas Stan, I highly encourage you to maybe cease interacting with this fic. **

Legs bouncing under the table. Hot coffee between your hands. Your makeup is smeared and not for any of the reasons you had hoped.

Ted is dead. The rhyme would be hilarious if you weren’t shitting bricks. You’ve been sitting in this interrogation room for 45 something minutes without a single word. Maybe they’re sweating you out. Can’t imagine why. You couldn’t talk if you wanted to without your nerves shooting up from your stomach.

You have no idea where Mark is. He had taken you back to the station with him but by the time you got there, someone was pulling you in for questioning. You couldn’t help but wonder if Mark’s in the same spot as you one room over.

Finally, finally, the door opens. A plain looking detective enters with a folder, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and takes a seat across from you.

“What time is it?” You ask weakly. He pauses like he wasn’t expecting you to talk first. He checks his watch.

“Uh, 2:37.”

You nod mutely and stare at the mirror over his shoulder.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you guys still do the one way mirror thing?” You nod to over his shoulder. “Everybody knows what it is because of the movies. So why bother?”

The detective just stares at you. You wonder if he’s stupid.

“You gonna tell me your name?”

He blinks, flips open the folder.

“I’m Detective Gibson. Sorry you had to wait so long.”

“Did you have more people to hassle?”

“That’s not fair. None of them were his ex.”

“But I still wasn’t top of the list?”

He digests your comment before chucking. “Alright, you got me. So we wanted you to sit for a little while.”

“A waste of your time and mine,” you mutter.

“Yeah, seems that you had a hot date with Detective Hoffman, is that right?”

“You gonna book me for conflict of interest?”

“Booking? Getting a little ahead of ourselves. I haven’t even had a chance to tell you what’s in the folder.”

“Nothing of substance.”

“No?”

“No, because there’s nothing there. Let’s just get this first bit out of the way. You don’t intimidate me. Am I here because you think I killed Ted? Is that it? You have a stack of 8 by 10 glossy photos of me with a black eye? How about a broken arm? And yet he never got booked for it.”

“Sounds like a motive.”

You chuckle humorlessly and bury your face in your hands.

“Uh-fucking-believable. Where’s Mark? You shaking him down, too?”

Gibson is quiet again, then shuffles the papers.

“Do you know where you were on July 9th?”

“Last Monday? Depends on the time. Probably work. If not work, home. Hey, you know who you could ask? The person you guys have had tracking my every move for two fucking weeks!”

He’s not smiling but you can tell the fucker is satisfied with your outburst.

“Admissible in court?” You scoff. “I don’t get it. That’s where I was. You don’t have a case. Let me go home so I can mourn and take off my makeup.”

He cocks his head. “Mourn?”

“He was a piece of shit but he was a human being, and I used to love him. I don’t care. No one deserves to die in one of those fucking monstrosities.”

“You draw a pretty clear line, morally.”

“Yes, it’s all a part of my master plan. Can I please go home?”

“Just a few more questions.” He pulls a specific photo. “Take a look at this for me.”

You look, and then grimace at the image. It’s Ted, his arms separated from his body, laying face down in a pool of blood and viscera.

“Jesus,” you groan. Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes as you force your head over your shoulder.

“You barely looked.”

“I saw enough. Stop fucking with me. I told you all I know. I cut ties with him after his last stint. I don’t do anything. I’m a waitress. I don’t have friends, I don’t leave my apartment. I don’t do anything.” You realize halfway through your memorized spiel that you’re crying. “I don’t know why this shit is following me around but I don’t want it. Any of it. Please just let me go home.”

There’s silence as you shake and let the tears fall from your eyes.

You feel a hand come to yours and you jerk it away like it burned you, suddenly turning back to Gibson with a fury.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You hiss, backing up in your chair. Gibson raises his hands.

“Woah, okay, easy. Alright. I see no reason to keep you any longer. Come on.”

He replaces the papers in his folder and you both stand. You keep your distance but as he holds the door open you realize he’s going to make you pass him. You tense as you do so, feeling his scrutinous eyes on your back. You hate him, he’s an asshole, but you can’t get a read on him. Whatever. You’re exhausted. All you want to do is go home and sleep.

You stumble out of the interrogation room and into the main room of the station, heels in hand. The few people present are watching you. You only have eyes for the door at the end of the hall.

But then a hand is between your shoulder blades and you feel Mark’s heat next to you, smell his cologne. But he doesn’t follow you.

“What the fuck is your problem, Gibson!?”

You turn and Mark has Gibson's collar in a vice grip. Gibson shoves Mark’s hands from him and pushes his chest.

“I’m doing my job, Hoffman. Don’t forget, you’re a suspect too, and in danger of ‘reassignment’. Right?”

“You better keep your nose outta things before something happens to it.”

“Is that a threat?”

You grip Mark’s forearm and spin him around, digging your heels to peel him down the hall.

“Mark, come on, please. Please, let’s just go home. Please.”

Mark’s eyes land on you and they soften. You can’t even imagine what you must look like but you don’t care. You squeeze Mark’s arm.

He turns back to Gibson, straightens out his jacket, runs a hand through his hair, and then he’s walking you out of the station with his hand having returned to your back, content to let it remain there.

The trip back to your place is silent. You don’t even remember the last time you had your shoes on. You go straight for the bathroom and shut the door behind you, locking it. Take off your makeup. Brush out your hair. Stare at yourself in the mirror until your reflection becomes blurry and your knuckles are white as you grip grooves into the sink.

You pee, peel off your panty hose, strip down to your underwear.

Hoffman is leaning against the wall outside the door and he does a very good job hiding his reaction at your bare skin. You sigh anyway.

“Sorry- I wasn’t even thinking…”

“No, don’t worry about it. Come on. You need water?”

You nod and drag your feet to your bedroom. Distantly you can make out the sound of your sink in the kitchen. You manage to take off your bra- some scanty thing you’d picked out for Mark, and slip on a band tee. Mark returns to your side. He’s removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves. He has a guiding hand taking you to your bed and you run your hands along his thick forearms.

“Alright, come on,” Mark half warns/half suggests you under your covers. If you were any more cognizant, you’d hate the way he’s walking you around like a child. But child or not, you need comfort.

He tries to turn away but you grab his wrist.

“Please, don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone.”

Mark sighs. “I don’t think…”

“No, not that. Just lay down with me, please. Or sit. Just please don’t leave me.”

Mark leaves your vision and you don’t turn your attention from the window that scared you shitless last week. Then you feel the bed dip at your back. Feel Mark’s strong arms slip across your stomach and rubbing circles into your shoulder.

You turn in to face his chest. Fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. Inhale the smell of him. You run your fingers along his jaw and press your nose to his. He doesn't move; in fact, his breathing has all but stopped.

You press wet lips to his but he doesn’t return. Just presses his lips together until you pull away.

“Not right now, sweetheart. Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

But he does kiss you on the forehead and you settle for curling into him and let his presence send you into sleep.

[eruden-writes]

Based on that reblog I'm assuming you're taking requests....if you are may ask for "oh. OH."

If you're not taking them just ignore. Hope your day is really nice

Haha, there's an Arcana flash fic I wrote a looong time ago that this prompt reminds me of.

I asked for a monster and another anon suggested werewolf, so we're going with that.

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Next Part | Masterlist

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The second day of the convention had proved to be less lucrative than Amber had hoped. At this rate, she would likely break a little over even with the stall and overhead. Not terrible, but she had higher hopes for her first convention as a vendor. Especially since she debuted her webcomic earlier in the year. 

It didn’t help that most other vendors near her seemed ten years her junior. Somewhere in their early- to mid-twenties, already popular in their art or writing. It made that sense of imposter syndrome - or the thought she should have done something with her life by now - dig in deep.

Little attention on her stall, plus some rather big name speakers drawing her potential customers away every hour, had left her feeling even more morose. It didn’t help that her best friend, Addie, kept taking off, eager to take in all the sights and programs. Of the two of them, extroverted Addie was more equipped to handle customers. 

And had been the one to convince Amber to risk money on this venture. 

Losing her tenth customer for the morning, Amber had resorted to idly sketching in her sketchbook, letting the sounds of the event wash over her. Her introverted batteries were at risk of exploding if she plastered her customer service smile on for yet-another easily-distracted congoer.

A constant flow of talk, of bodies constantly moving, of noisy little doodads or televisions played. Overhead, a screen indicated upcoming events and, occasionally, played ads concerning prices at the convention hall’s food court. Farther away, near the doors of the main hall, cosplayers posed and cameras flashed.

Someone’s hand leaned at the edge of her table, the plastic creaking under their weight as they leaned to peer at her art. Amber tensed, braced for questions or maybe even a request for a free drawing. Her mechanical pencil continued to sketch, pretending to be too focused to pay the interloper any mind. 

“So, I take it you don’t like Montos?” 

Apparently, someone couldn’t take a hint. Then again, Amber was supposed to be hawking her wares. Namely her art and webcomic. Still, she was bitter over her circumstance and her MIA co-worker. 

Shrugging, Amber didn’t bother looking up as she continued to work on the not-so-flattering caricature of Montos, fan favorite villain of hit streaming show Of Wolf and Blood. “The character is okay - as far as a bad guy, y’know - but the actor is just overhyped.” 

The interloper chuckled, deep enough that the resonance made a tingle shoot down Amber’s spine. There was a smile in their voice as they replied, “I hear that. I’ve been on his sets.” 

“Is that so-” Unimpressed and ready for some harebrained lie, Amber shot the visitor a skeptical look. Her disbelief faded as her eyes landed on Augustine Prime. A pompous name for an even more arrogant actor, if tabloids were to be believed. “Oh.” 

For a beat, all she could do was stare at him. From the back of her mind, she could hear Addie’s gushing voice relaying details about this very man. He/him, seven foot, a lycan with alleged hellhound blood in him, and built like a strongman competitor. 

Amber could see why he was a fan favorite from his size alone, but those dark gold eyes and chestnut brown waves - worn in a way that made Amber think of a surfer dude - certainly didn’t hurt. The fact he was half-shifted didn’t hurt, either. Walking around like a damn anime character with wolf ears and tail on full display. Faintly, she tried to recall if his clothes - a suit with some obnoxiously bright tie - was from a anything she recognized.

“Oh.” It was curiosity and realization that made her glance down at her sketch, part of her trying to gauge how accurately she was. It took her a half-second to realize that perhaps drawing a less-than-flattering picture of an actor would result in retaliation. Her eyes swung back up to Augustine’s face, that infuriating smirk still tilting at his lips. “Oh no.” 

“So, how much?” He nodded to her hands, to her sketchbook.

Amber’s brain grappled for understanding. “H-how much?” 

Augustine’s smile spread a little further, showing off unnervingly perfect - slightly sharp - white teeth. “For the drawing.” 

Instinctively, she snapped her sketchbook shut, slamming it down on the table and folding her hands atop it. “Wh-what?” 

Amusement quirked further through his features as he raised an eyebrow. “The drawing you were just working on.” 

She clutched her sketchbook to her chest, barely keeping a whine down at the back of her throat. From the way the man’s infuriating grin broadened yet again, she was willing to bet he could hear it regardless. Something broke in her mind. Agitation over his smarminess cleaved through her shock and surprise. 

When she answered, her knuckles hurt from clutching to her sketch pad so hard. “I charge $200 for commissions.” 

Augustine’s other eyebrow rose to join its counterpart. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but commissions would mean I’d ask you to draw.” 

“I-It’s not finished.” Amber wanted to bite her own tongue for stuttering, but she sat straighter and tried to sound firm, “So you’d be asking me to complete it.” 

It was only then that she realized people were staring. Hell, they were amassing around her table. There were obvious fans, hoping to catch Augustine’s attention, and nosy busybodies who were undoubtedly wondering what exactly this star was doing at her table. Heat clawed up Amber’s back, threatening to spill a blush across her cheeks. 

Gods, why couldn’t he have dropped by when Addie was here? 

“Can’t argue there. Here you go.” Finally, Augustine shrugged and pulled his wallet out. Amber numbly stared as he slapped down two $100 bills. Her eyes swung to his face, mouth open to protest, but he silenced her with a wink and a grin. “Deliver it to the VIP section when you’re done.” 

Augustine swept away from her table, taking most of the accumulated crowd with him. If he noticed his silent entourage, he didn’t take any notice. As her hand smacked over the cash, sliding it closer to her, she watched the actor swagger off. 

Though most of the crowd had left, quite a few people had remained. She realized they were asking about her art, her webcomic, her relation to Mr. Prime and she fielded the question while still trying to process her own shock. 

There was one thing, however, that lit up in her mind. 

She really should have charged him more.

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If you like my content, please consider supporting me on: 

*:･ﾟ✧ Patreon or  Ko-Fi *:･ﾟ✧

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 2

New? Check out the first chapter HERE! (Go ahead; you're not late. Sure, we can wait.)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake attends dinner at the palace, and even though some things will never change, he discovers quickly everyone has moved on without him.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley; Bertrand x Savannah; Maxwell x m!OC; Olivia x Amalas

Word Count: ~4885

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (like, a lot); references to infidelity, pregnancy; teasing/bullying

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! If you are new, hi! Thank you for joining us! This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Drake

The gentle purr of the engine beneath my grip of the steering wheel shoots pleasurable waves of pure octane ecstasy. My nerves ignite with palpable electricity, coursing through my every cell. The cream leather interior is like butter against my skin, and the scent of luxury leaves me completely intoxicated.

Lucky little shit.  

I still can't believe my nephew–my fucking nephew–owns this beauty. How many twenty-four-year-olds own an Aston Martin Vantage convertible? I wish I could give him more shit about it, coming from such privilege as being the oldest son of a duke, but Bartie has more than earned it. 

He may not have exactly been planned, but he was the answer, and essentially the savior, of Ramsford. Back when I lived in this God-forsaken country, some twenty-odd years ago, Ramsford was in financial ruin. My brother-in-law, Bertrand, Bartie's father, scraped, scrapped and pinched every monetary morsel to keep them afloat for years.

Then along came Bartie: finished the top of his class at some preppy private institute at Stormholt with a degree in finance, and in just three fucking years of working with his dad… well, that little shit has an Aston. 

I'm actually very proud of him. Surely he knows that. We weren't much for talking over the years, but I'd send cards telling him I loved him, and I'd ask about him during video calls with my sister.

Judging that I am sitting in his custom-painted cherry-red luxury car right now? Yeah, Bartie knows I care the world about him. The fact that he's going to allow me to drive it? Fuck, I don't think I even trust myself, especially on these European roadways. Sure, I learned how to drive in Cordonia, but that was over two decades ago. And it wasn't a stickshift.

Can't be that hard, right?

I study the mechanism of the gear shift, comparing it to a quick Google search on my phone as I wait for my nephew to return to the car with a necktie–my suggestion.  Afterall, we're heading to dinner with the royal family… A.K.A. my childhood best friend, his daughter. And his wife.

The love of my life.

Eh, don't feel sorry for me. I'm over it. Seriously. And besides, technically, Liam had first dibs on her; but then again, he had first dibs on several other women at the exact same time, social season and all for his highness, the fucking crown prince of Cordonia. Whoop-de-do.

He's the one that asked me to look after his hot American suitor during his own personal season of The Bachelor. Are you really surprised I fell for the chick? The guy was never around. And Riley and me? She... she was fun, smart. She was fucking hilarious, gave those noble bitches a real run for their money. And yet, she was still kind and caring. She was easy to talk to; I found myself opening up to her in ways that… well, no one else could. 

Riley Brooks. I guess you could say she's the reason I never settled down with anyone. No one–and I mean no one–ever measured up. 

Oh well. That was a long time ago. And she made her decision. Him. And even though he was like the brother I never had, I… I couldn't. I just couldn't sit back and watch them play house and build a life together. Well, for Liam, it was real. 

I had fallen for her. But so had Liam. I knew that if I stayed–if I had stayed, the secret of Riley and me wouldn't end. Shit, if it didn’t end after they said, "I do," when would it?

Time heals all wounds, right?

Bartie opens the door, and slides into the passenger seat with two neckties in hand, both black as he holds them up to his crisp white oxford. "What do you think?"

"Think about what? The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost? You look like a fucking mormon," I jest as I point to the one with a subtle matte paisley design. "Why are you fussing about this anyway?"

"Just cause," he passively offers as he stares in the visor mirror, knotting his tie. "I'm speaking with King Liam privately after dinner, and… well, I just want to look alright."

Sensing his raw nerves, I pause for a moment, watching him fidget anxiously with the garment. Jesus, when did my baby nephew become a fucking man?  I smile, placing my calloused fingers on his shoulder. "You do, kid." I fasten my seat belt as I turn my attention to the dash. "So, how do I put this thing into drive?"

------

It’s surreal walking into the palace after so many years away. White marble floors. Crimson curtains with gold accents.  Childhood memories flood my mind of our sword battles on the grand staircase, pretending to be blood-thirsty pirates. Or when we would gallop through the secret labyrinth of corridors deep within the estate, charging on our make-believe stallions like mighty Spanish conquistadors. 

We would always sneak to the kitchen between meals to taste the desserts being made for dinner–unless Ms. Marta was working. That fucking old hag. Most of my ass whoopings were from her tattling on us. 

Liam was a fucking weirdo on our kitchen raids.  We would slip through the window of the bakehouse, and when we would confirm that the coast was clear, he would always head straight for the pantry to a bag of pistachios. We're talking about a place that had every sweet, every chocolate, every cookie imaginable, readily available in sealed containers. And he chose nuts. 

I always had my eyes on a nightly staple in the palace: warm apple pie. They were made daily, and I could always find at least one cooling on the window sill. 

Fuck, now I'm salivating over a fucking pie.  

To this day, I humbly have to admit that Cordonia apple pies are the best–don't let the taste of a raw ruby fool you. Something about the bitter compounds reaching a certain temperature causes… something-something to do something… ah, hell. Tell you what. If you're that curious, ask Liam. I mean, I'm assuming he's still a nerd–

"Drake!" 

I startle at the greeting, instantly recognizing the tall, broad-shouldered blond striding closer to me, wearing… an apron? The fuck? The apron has the phrase, 'I love you a bushel and a peck'.

Oh, yeah. He's still a fucking dweeb. 

His outstretched hand takes mine as he shakes it before pulling me into an embrace. "It's so good to see you, old friend," he pats my back before standing back to take me in.

He looks so different, but undoubtedly, he still looks like Liam Rys. Stray pieces of silver litter his perfectly styled, perfectly placed waves. His strong jawline and high cheekbones were cut more razor-sharp by his more mature, thinned face. His strong chest and the swell of his biceps made him look like a fucking Greek god. Lucky bastard. It's like turning forty didn't wreak havoc on his appearance or metabolism, save for a few fine lines around his eyes and smile.

"Bartie," Liam smiles endearingly, "always a pleasure." He extends his arm to my nephew before the scared kid had a chance to bow. I could see the flood of panic in Bartie’s eyes, but I gave him a reassuring nod as he hesitantly took his majesty's hand.

Don't worry, kid. I won't tell your daddy about your ‘poor manners’.

"Please," Liam rests his hand on my shoulder while turning to guide us to the queen's hall, the largest dining area in the palace for private parties. The room boasted an impressive, custom eight-meter-long table that could easily fit twenty-five guests comfortably. "Come, come. Everyone is just being seated." We follow him down the east corridor when suddenly, the savory aroma of roast and… something garlicky teases my senses. Liam obviously caught the delicious waft too, turning back with a devious grin. "I hope you brought some hearty appetites. Riley and I have something special for you tonight."

Riley. Why does the mere mention of her name make me–shit. Get it together, Walker. You're over it.

As expected, my closest friends during my time in Cordonia are all present along with their families. Well, 'friends' might be too strong of a word to use on this crowd. They were nobles and friends of Liam. I was friends with Liam. Ergo, we were friends. Sorta. 

My sister Savannah and her husband Bertrand were sitting at the end towards my right, speaking in hushed tones to one another. They came separately from Bartie and myself from their estate since, well, there wasn't enough room for them and the triplets. Yes. You read right. Triplets. As in three babies at once. They had tried for years to have more children with sadly no avail, and it took a terrible toll on their marriage. I still remember Sav's tearful call five years ago, revealing to me that they were separating. I was preparing to hop on a plane to execute my brother-in-law's accidental demise for breaking my little sister's heart when I got a second call a few weeks later. They were pregnant. I got a call a week after that. I had three nieces on the way.  Sydnie, Stella and Simone: the cutest little shits you've ever seen… and not just because they have their uncle's dashing good looks. 

I'm talking about me, their uncle. Not their other uncle.

Maxwell Beaumont–said other uncle– was sitting next to his brother Bertrand. He officially married Baron Friedrich von Lehndorff twelve years ago when Cordonia overturned their marriage clause of traditional unions. One hundred forty-eight same-gender couples came forward that day to be legally married; Max and Rich led the way to the Capitol. They became a beacon of light and love, not just for Cordonia, but to the world. I remember reading about their march for equality and their victory in my local paper. Maxwell and I weren't necessarily best friends, but a sense of pride bloomed in my chest, seeing him do something so incredible and bold with his life.  

He and Rich have a 9-year-old daughter Gia and 4-year-old son Ollie, both adopted from South Korea. Don't tell them I told you, but I follow their TikTok. Those two are fucking adorable.

Across from the Beaumont-von Lehndorffs is the Scarlet Duchess herself. Olivia Nevrakis. And… I almost can't believe the sight myself–

"Hey, Walker!" She waves, a smile growing on her face.

What. The. Fuck. Was she… happy to see me?

She stands up and makes her way around the table of guests to greet me. 

With a hug.

Shock number two: she’s touching me in a friendly manner. But that's when I was hit with shock number three.

Is she? No, no… she can't be. Is that a–?

She must've seen the curiosity etching across my face as I stared down at a rounded abdomen that just pressed up against me during our embrace. She instinctively cradles her belly and giggles.

Giggles. 

Was I in the Twilight Zone?

She married Amalas a few years after I moved away. I wasn't surprised; the few times Livvy and I hooked up felt odd, like something was missing. I mean, not that I didn't satisfy her. That was never a problem for me with women. Turns out, ol' red was looking for a queen. 

Together they serve as queen and queen consort of Monterisso, and apparently are known for creating quite a riot at international events. I'm not surprised. They have four children: Macaela–Amalas’s daughter with her late husband–Josefine, Joaquin, and Joseph.  And then baby Timothy will be joining them soon. Because that name makes sense.

I'm starting to feel a little self-conscious. It's been over twenty years, and everyone seems to have grown up. Had families. Changed the world. And what did I have to show? Nothing. I mean, I did have quite a successful construction company that I developed with almost seventy employees under my leadership, but… well, that went under thanks to my business partner fucking me over. Fucking twat-waffle. 

But is this really what my life comes down to? Is this how you would sum up my life? Compared to childhood friends, I was still nothing. And here I was again on the coattails of Liam.

An abrupt delicate tink to a wine glass echoes over the various conversations and children squealing, silencing everyone as we turn our attention to the head of the table. 

And there she was. Just as breathtaking as the last day that I saw her.

"Drake," she gasps as I pull her into the dark shadows behind the barn. "We can't. Not anymore." 

I shake my head, her eyes refusing to meet mine. I took a step towards her, but she instinctively shifts, her back pressing against the wall.

"Brooks–"

"Rys," she interjects, the correction like a serrated blade piercing my skin. A sob escapes her as rivers course down the planes of her velvet skin.

Placing my arm against the splintered wood next to her head, I lean closer to her, capturing her intoxicating scent. My hand slips up her neck, my fingers tenderly lifting her chin to look at me, to captivate me with those ocean eyes.

My thumb caresses her rosy lips, feeling her breath hitch. I flutter my mouth across her wet cheeks, my feather touch kissing away her tears.

But we suddenly freeze.

"Riley?"

Liam's smooth voice carries over the moonlit pasture, drowning out our abilities to hear the bustle of the reception.

"Riley…Don't–"

But it's too late. Before I could stop her, she was gone.

I blink. Casually shifting in my seat, I glance nonchalantly around me. Whew, everyone is still staring at the head of the table. No one seems to notice that I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.  I nervously scratch through my stubble before grabbing the water glass in front of me. I take a longass sip of water, but when I pull the glass from my mouth, two crystal-blue orbs with long, flirty lashes are locked on me.

Fuck, I choke on the water on my attempt to swallow it down. I start coughing violently as Maxwell starts patting my back.

"You okay there, Drakey?"

I finally take a gulp of air, and glare at him. "Yes… and it's Drake, Maxi pad." Okay. I admit it. It was childish to retaliate by calling him the name me and some of the other guys called Maxwell growing up. But to my surprise, he laughs before finger-gunning me.

"Good one, Drake. I haven't heard that in years."

I turn back to our royal hosts just in time for Liam to give me a friendly nod, as if to ensure that I'm okay without creating more of a scene. But when I glance over at Riley, she quickly averts her eyes, slipping her hand into Liam's. 

Jesus Christ. If that was a sign of how things were going to be, her cowering and treating me like I'm some kind of criminal for something she did willingly… something she pursued… fuck that. Send me back to Texas.

"We brought wine!" Rich singsongs, pulling out two large bottles from a nearby refrigerated wine rack. "Who'd like–?"

I refused to let the poor bastard finish.

"Me."

------

I can't remember a single time in my life where I have been so positively and exuberantly grateful for Maxwell fucking Beaumont. He fended off the anticipated awkwardness and helped the dinner conversation progress, making the casual assist to include me in this special meal that was supposedly in my honor. 

I'm not saying the others were rude to me, Liam especially. He was treating me like a long lost brother, like the prodigal son that has finally returned home. And I'm not going to lie: it felt good to be reunited with him.

But Riley couldn't even look me in the eye, and judging by the flashes of guilt and her over-eagerness to leave the room every chance she got, I know she never told her husband the truth about our relationship.  He had his suspicions. And I owned up to falling for her, thus the ending of our friendship and me moving to Texas. I mean, I thought it was the end…

But, I didn't just fall for her; it wasn't pining for her from afar, hoping she would give me the time of day.

We were in love.

"This was absolutely divine," Savannah sings praises, taking a sip of her tea. Everyone begins chiming in with their sentiments, thanking the royal couple for the delicious meal. Yes, they prepared it. I know; I was impressed myself.

Individual conversations continue through dessert and coffee when suddenly, the ring of a phone interrupts us into silence.

"Excuse me," Amalas whispers with the phone against her ear, "I need to take this. It's Josie."

Liam and Riley flash looks of concern at one another. "I hope everything is okay," Riley says softly as she twirls her necklace between her fingers, turning to her husband with a more hushed tone. "Did Ellie text you?"

Liam is already looking at his phone, but he's casually shaking his head, appearing more relaxed than his wife. His gaze catches my curious look as I try to put the pieces together of what's going on this evening.

"Josie–err, Josefine–is out with our Eleanor and Madeleine's daughter Bethany this evening." 

Ah, that's right… Josefine must go by Josie, Amalas’s second daughter, her first daughter with Olivia. Shit, I can’t keep these spawn straight….

"Crisis averted!" Amalas sweeps back into the room, placing her cell into her pocket. "The girls said the restaurant was too crowded, so they're going over to the Vancoeur's for a–" she imitates an American valley girl, "girls' night."

"Vancoeur?" I mutter, turning to Maxwell. "Did he… reproduce, too?" The idea sounded ridiculous. What woman lowered her standards that low to sleep with that bastard?

"Yep," Maxwell responds, "he has a beautiful daughter." He takes an obnoxious sip of his espresso. "You know, Bethany, the girl that's out with Eleanor and Josie."

No. Fucking. Way.

"I thought Beth was Madeleine's kid?"

"It is." Maxwell chuckles as mischief glows in his eyes. "Oh Drakey, you missed it. Maddie and Neville were actually married for about ten years." Pulling a napkin up to his mouth, he lowers his voice. "Rumor has it she was about to lose what was left of her inheritance, slept with that weasel, then faked a pregnancy to get him to propose." He snickers. "I wish I could've been a fly on the wall when her fake pregnancy turned out to be a real pregnancy."

"What the–?"

"Mhrmm," Maxwell bounces his eyebrows, "she claims she had no idea." He stares at me intently before rolling his eyes and gesturing with his hand a dramatically large curve over his stomach. “Agnes, my seamstress–can you believe she’s still working for us? Well, anyway, that woman can work absolute miracles…” He takes another sip of his drink.  He quiets his voice while he averts his eyes, slowly crossing his legs. “There was no hiding that bump.”

I shake my head in disbelief, chuckling under my breath when suddenly, I feel a large hand on my shoulder. I whip around quickly, pulling my body away, when I see–

"Shit, Li–"

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he offers a friendly smile.

I blow away the air I had quickly sucked in, willing my heartbeat to slow down. I guess I'm still a little on edge being here, but fuck, that scared me.

"I thought before you left tonight, we could discuss, um… arrangements. For you."

"Yeah… yeah, of course." Following his lead, we start to make our way to the exit for privacy.

When Liam invited me to Cordonia, he was very specific that he wanted to help me get back on my feet. And I believe him. I know his generosity is genuine; he doesn't have any ulterior motives or some secret vendetta against me from the past. At least I hope he doesn't. But this isn't a vacation for me; part of the deal was I needed to work. I'm not sure if that meant finding temp jobs or something more long-term. 

“Do I smell imported cheap whiskey?”

I stop short of the door.

Fuck me. Leo Rys. Liam’s older brother and notorious international womanizer. The man just turned fifty last year, and it’s like he unlocked a new group of admirers, especially now that he’s sportin’ a little silver around the edges these days. 

He and Liam are complete polar opposites. Apples and oranges. Night and day. If Liam was thoughtful and selfless… well, you get the gist. And clearly by his entrance, I’m discovering that some things never change.

As if his deep bellow wasn’t warning enough, his black leather boots announce his presence as he struts across the polished tile, his arm hooked around his helmet. He slaps his free hand on my shoulder, squeezing it firmly as he obnoxiously sniffs me.

"Cheap whiskey… and… is that a hint of beef jerky and cow patties I'm detecting?"

"Good to see you, too." Jackass. I slap his chest before pushing him off of me. I may have used a little more force than I should've. My bad. 

"Am I late for dinner?" He slaps Liam on the back before walking towards the kitchen.

Liam sighs. "Just… a little–"

"Ahh, don't worry," he stops to kiss Riley on the cheek. "I'll serve myself."

As Leo disappears, Liam and I give each other a knowing look before leaving the room as well.

------

"Trust me, you're going to love what Riley has done with the guest quarters."

Liam and I had a good talk. A really good talk. We didn't have to say it, but it was clear: we missed each other. We missed our camaraderie, the confidence we had in one another. He was the first person I called when Dad died; I was the first person he called when Leo abdicated. We grew up and became men together.

But then Riley Brooks happened… but, I'm guessing you know that by now.

Liam has already a number of jobs for me to sift through, several carefully picked out that would play to my strengths with architecture and construction. But since these jobs were either on the grounds or here locally in the Capitol, he insisted I move into one of the private guest quarters with its own private entrance and balcony.

'You don't need to be making that drive from Ramsford everyday.' He's right. It's quite the journey, not to mention I don't exactly have a vehicle of my own here. So, I'm back in the palace. Ain't life a bitch?

"Now I hope you don't mind all-electric. The gas lines and how they were designed don’t–"

"Beggars can't be choosers, love."

Her words are like ice, the sharp chill making even her husband shudder. 

"Riley–"

"What?" She giggles under her breath. "I was joking." She turns a venomous stare towards me. "Drake knows I'm kidding. Don't you, Drake?"

I clear my throat. "Yeah," I play along, "good one."

"Love?" She slips her hand around Liam's arm, lowering her voice into a whisper. "Bartie Beaumont has requested to speak with you privately."

"Oh!" Liam brightens. "Sure. Of course." He gives me a pleasant nod. "Excuse me, Drake. And, please. Feel free to look around."  He begins to make his way towards the dining area, Riley following in step behind with no acknowledgement to me.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I needed a moment to myself anyway.

"Actually," Liam turns on his heel, waving a finger in the air. "On second thought, Love?" He smiles lovingly towards Riley, placing his hands affectionately on her shoulders. "How about you go show Drake the renovations you made?"

Shit.

------

Riley barely spoke two words to me besides pointing to the obvious fixtures and control buttons in the guest suite.

Light... Refrigerator… Bathroom… 

"This, uh, looks really nice," I try to converse, combing my fingers through my hair. "I never thought I'd see the day this room would have a–"

"We don't have to do this." She walks out of the room and into another part of the suite.

Why was she being such a frigid bitch? 

Fuck, I need a smoke.

I take a deep breath, shoving my hands in my pockets as I stroll back out into the hallway of the apartment.

"Is there anything else you needed to see?" She swallows thickly. She tries to remain stoic with a stiff bottom lip. Her jaw ticks… but her glare betrays her as something else brews that I … can’t quite discern.

But then, without warning, Riley's eyes roam down my body, catching on the crotch of my khakis before returning to my face.

Eyes up here, your majesty.

She clears her throat, pretending I didn't just catch her checking me out. "Um, anything else you wanted to see… of the suite, that is? Because, uh, we should probably –" she shuffles backwards, pointing aimlessly behind her, towards the door.

"You go on ahead," I tell her. "I'm gonna check out the balcony if you don't mind."

A heated swirl of rouge ignites on Riley’s cheeks. She nods, turning on her heel quickly without saying a word, and exits the apartment in record time. 

Thank God. I don't know what just happened, but… this is a very interesting turn of events. Does she still have feelings for me?

No. Stop.

Shit. Maybe moving in is a mistake.

I make my way outside, and damn. The view from this balcony is stunning. It actually overlooks the Cordonia countryside, which means less lights from the city and plenty of stars to be seen at night. It's... actually a nice reminder of home.

Taking a seat on the balustrade, I pull out a cigarette and nestle it between my teeth as I search for my lighter. I pat my pockets, both in the back and front of my pants before checking my shirt.

Shit. Can the universe just pass me a fucking bone?

I slump over, resting my elbows on my knees. Holding my hands in front of me, I begin to pick at my calluses as the events of the evening replay like a movie reel in my head.

But suddenly, there's a snick, then a spark; then a single flame is held in front of me. Fishing my cigarette out from behind my ear, I fix it between my lips and lean into the fire. I pull heavily, deeply until the familiar burn touches my anxious nerves, and I blow away my initial puff.

"You know smoking can kill you."

I raise an eyebrow at the deep voice, taking another inhale before blowing it in Leo's face.

"Malaka."

I chuckle at his insult, watching that smug grin pull out his own cigarette to light. He leans against the side of the balcony before hoisting himself up onto the balustrade.

"So," he licks his lips, looking at me inquisitively. "How does it feel to be back in lovely Cordonia?"

I look at him, scrunching my face. Really? That's the best you can do? I look back down, flicking some ash on the ground.

"How does it feel–" he blows smoke over his shoulder, "--being back close to Riley?"

My head shot up.

"Ohhh," he snickers, "that got Walker's attention really fast."

How the fuck does Leo know? How the fuck does Leo know anything? I can feel my heart begin to pound, my eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"Now hold up, Walker," he holds up his hands in defense. "I come in peace. I don't care that you fucked my sister-in-law once upon a time… okay, fine. Maybe just a little–"

"What do you want, Leo?"  I interrupt, irritation baited in my voice.

He looks down fidgeting with his fingers.  When he turns back to me, he has an indiscernible expression on his face, as if a wave of vulnerability is crashing over him.

"I know it can be… challenging, you know? Moving back to Cordonia after a hiatus, and I figured tonight was probably a lot for you."

And now Leo is trying to have a heart-to-heart with me… What the fuck happened to these people while I was gone?

"I thought maybe… you could use a friend."

"Well," I stand up, taking a step away. "Thanks. I appreciate it–"

"I mean it," he holds a hand to his chest. "Say–" he jumps to his feet, sandwiching himself between me and the door. "What are you doing tonight?"

Besides leading the exciting life of letting my nephew drive me back to his parent's house, eating a bag of Doritos in my boxers and getting shit-faced?

"There's a new club opening in town tonight. Tons of people. Who's who. VIP–" 

"Thanks, but–"  I try to shove past him, but he stops me, putting his hands against my chest.

"Six full bars, and–" he wiggles his eyebrows. "Lots… and lots… of fresh Cordonian-grade pussy. How do you like them apples?"

Like I said, some things never change.

"C’mon, Walker… you in?"

~🖤~

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------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

[taomyou]

The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 1

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn't hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 5.3k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking

(A/N: this fic is already completed and entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it. i am currently in the process of crossposting everything to tumblr, so please be patient!)

Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

a bird keychain

“Thank you for helping me today! Have a good weekend,” Armin beams at you, sending you off with a wave.

You shoot him a small smile and a wave back before turning on your heel to go for the door. On the way out, you keep your briefcase tucked under your left arm as you wave with both hands to the rest of the people still on the floor.

Once the door behind you is shut and you’re out of your coworkers’ view, you let a smaller, more bashful smile break out on your face as you make your way over to the elevator. Your shoulders loosen up, and you find yourself taking lighter steps. Your arms are swinging freely, not paying any mind to how idiotic you might look. Ordinarily, you'd be walking normally when you clock out, so what has you acting so different today?

Well, it’s Friday, and Friday is when that guy on your bus is there.

✰

You first saw him in September, right around when Armin, Eren, and Mikasa started at your firm.

You remember Erwin begging you to give up your parking spot for Armin; it wasn’t hard to forget when the tall, usually levelheaded man got on his literal knees to ask you to find a different ride to the firm. You worked at a fairly busy downtown building with its own parking structure, but it wasn’t big enough to hold both client and employee cars.

Erwin was only able to negotiate a number of spots for your department, and, even then, most of them were reserved for clients. Erwin reasoned that Armin drove Eren and Mikasa to work, so it would be more logical for a spot to be given to them instead of having you, who drove only yourself, own it.

At the time, you didn’t know them all that well yet. They were freshly hired interns, the lot of them, and you had only worked with Mikasa so far. You were inclined to refuse Erwin, but seeing him on his knees was so… pathetic, and so you found yourself giving him a polite smile and saying you'd try to figure out a new ride.

Part of you also felt bad because Armin had already gotten ticketed 5 times by city security for parking at a client parking spot, and Mikasa had already asked you on several occasions where Armin could park without getting fined (to which you told her, "I don't know any better than you do. Before I got my parking space, I got so many parking tickets that I just stopped counting them.")

You and Erwin weren’t super close. Friends, sure, but you never interacted much outside of work. He was your work superior, and even if he was kind and cordial with you, he was like that with everyone. Perhaps he was more so with you because you were an intern around the same time he was starting out after coming from a different firm.

As the two “newbies,” the two of you would eat lunch together in the breakroom when the other coworkers got into heated arguments about workplace politics on the main floor. You'd eat in silence for a bit to ease out the stress from work, but you’d both talk about random things you did over the weekend when you had extra time before you had to go back to your desks.

You didn’t really peg him as the sort of guy to be into Gundam building, but most of the stories he told you from these small lunch breaks were about what figures he had in progress at home or how hard it was to find a certain model he wanted. You usually talked about the new recipe you tried that weekend or what you had planned for the next week, and he seemed as interested as he could for a guy who knew next to nothing about baking.

Back then, you always brought food from the family-owned Chinese takeout place across the street because... well, you were a struggling grad student without enough time to make lunch for yourself to bring. You'd make little paper stars for Erwin with the chopstick wrappers you got there whenever you saw him after lunch (even when you didn't eat together).

He found it odd at first, but you explained that they were good luck charms (and that you had a habit of folding them for people any time you got your hands on a long strip of paper).

It was a peaceful thing—what you two had going on.

Just two coworkers who ate lunch and talked to each other sometimes. That went on for a long time until those others coworkers went on to other departments or other firms, and the two of you were promoted into your respective positions now and got too busy to have lunch anywhere besides your desks.

Well, more like he got promoted and you were hired full-time after graduation.

And even though there was less time for the two of you to talk like before, when he first showed you his new office, you didn't miss the small jar of white-with-red-lettering paper stars sitting at the edge of his work desk.

Either way, no matter how tight you were with Erwin, you were left without a parking spot now.

He practically leapt to his feet in joy when you said you’d at least try to find a way around it, and he apologized profusely for asking you to give up your spot. He knew you lived relatively far since you had to drive 30 minutes to get to work everyday, so he promised to get you an unlimited-use pass for the bus if you weren’t able to find a ride at the firm, which you took him up on, not wanting to bother your other coworkers with the inconvenience of picking you up from a neighborhood far from the building.

He also promised to give you a spot as soon as he was able to negotiate another one for the department, and you forced him to link pinkies with you to seal the deal.

Now, you weren’t inexperienced taking the bus.

You took it every day in university, only getting a car the summer before your first year in law school. Even if it had been 5 years since then, you figured it wouldn’t be any different. Erwin did promise he’d get you a spot again soon, and you knew him to be a man of his word.

Besides, gas prices were crazy—maybe you’d be better off giving your wallet a break for a while.

The day you first took bus 143, you were wearing an outfit you wouldn’t normally wear to work.

Erwin was the only superior working in the office that day, seeing as the others were off at some conference in the next town over, and he was fine with you wearing whatever you wanted to—within reason, of course. You had on a nice pink two piece blazer and skirt, as well as a white blouse underneath it.

You also remember your outfit because Petra, another one of your coworkers, complimented your outfit and asked if the two of you could go clothes shopping together sometime. You promised to invite her the next time you went out shopping, remembering that she was nearing her first anniversary with her boyfriend Oluo (who worked on the floor above you), and that she’d maybe want your help choosing an outfit.

On the walk to the bus stop, you weren’t nervous at all.

You already looked over the bus route several times at work during your breaks. It was quite the convenient route—you only needed to take one bus, and your apartment was only a 5 minute walk from the stop after the 45-minute ride.

You spent the earlier parts of the week at another office in a different building (with actual parking) because Erwin had sent you to handle some business there, so that explained why you didn’t have to take the bus until the tail end of the week. You had breakfast with Hange that Friday, so you didn’t have to figure out the logistics of actually getting to work since they dropped you off, but you’d figure it out next week.

"Get home safe! Text me when you're home!" They yelled for you through their rolled-down window. 

It was good that you waited until Friday to try the bus anyway. You got out early on Fridays, so if you took the wrong bus or got off at the wrong stop, there would still be time to figure out the right way to get home. You were hardly worried about it, but it was nice to know that the sun would still be out if you ended up stranded.

You checked the time on your phone; 3:02 PM. You heard the screech of the tires seconds later, and you went to scan the card Erwin gave you earlier that week.

Well, curse you for thinking the ride would be normal.

It wasn’t until you actually got on the bus that you felt nervous.

After you settled into your seat and put your briefcase on your lap, you saw an admittedly really hot guy sitting right across from you.

He was clad in a neat suit, not unlike the ones the men at your work wore. He had a neat pair of cuff links pinned on his dress shirt and what looked like a watch peeked out from under his sleeve. His hair was trimmed neatly in an undercut, and it looked so impossibly soft and shiny. And even though he was looking down at his phone, you could still see his face quite well. His lips were downturned, his features were sharp and strong, and, worst of all...

His eyes were gorgeous.

They looked to be some shade of blue. Maybe even grey? Silver? You hadn’t even seen them fully yet, and your heart was already starting to race.

You didn’t even want to imagine how you would feel if you made eye contact with him.

You didn’t need to be knocked out of your staring. You knew it would be weird to stare any longer than you already had been, so you busied yourself on your phone while fighting off the blush you felt blooming on your face.

You occasionally stole glances at him throughout the ride, pretending that you were looking out the window he sat in front of, but your eyes never lingered on him for fear of getting caught. He never seemed to look back up at you though, so maybe he didn’t care that you were even there in front of him.

You were grateful for your choice in outfit, since you felt quite pretty in it—you wouldn't want such a handsome stranger to think you had poor fashion taste. Not that he probably cared. He didn't seem to look in your direction at all.

You were grateful he didn't look at you. Well... some part of you was grateful he didn't.

You had gotten bored of switching between the random games you had on your phone, so you took note of his bag. You were so entranced by his face that you hadn't even taken a look at his backpack yet, almost 30 minutes after you got on the bus in the first place.

It wasn't unlike the one you used in university and grad school—simple, black, practical.

What caught your eye, however, was a bird keychain looped onto the outermost zipper. It looked like some sort of white dove, but you didn't know anything about birds, really, so you couldn't guess what kind it was.

It was... cute. It didn't seem to really match him, but you suppose it added to the mystery of him. Maybe his girlfriend gave it to him? It seemed like it could be part of a matching set.

Before your brain could even wrap itself around the idea that this stranger could've been already taken, the bus stopped at 3:40 PM, and he got up from his seat, and left the bus without so much as a sound.

The rest of the ride was a bit of a haze.

You remember you got off the bus 2 stops later, walked the short route to your apartment, and put down your briefcase at your dining table after opening the door. You walked over to your cupboard and grabbed a mug, then you moved over to the fridge to take out a chilled pitcher of water you had in there. As you filled the mug, you felt a quiet bloom in your chest.

In the privacy of your own home, you finally let the blush you’ve been fighting finally reach your face in full, and it seemed that even your cold water couldn’t cool you off. After taking off your heels, you went over to the bathroom to start taking off your makeup.

The first time you looked in the mirror after taking bus 143, your face was alarmingly red.

What was up with you? You saw attractive men all the time, and you'd never been this flustered before. It had to be the mystery of a stranger, right? You splashed water onto your face, trying to calm down your burning cheeks. Hell, even your ears were red. 

After you removed your makeup and got dressed in some home clothes, you plopped yourself down on your couch and groaned. This wasn’t you. You weren’t one to even care for looks all that much in partners, and you were all hot for a guy you didn’t even get to make eye contact with.

You decided then that the stranger on bus 143 would be someone you didn't think of outside of the 40 minute-ish ride you just shared. You’d probably never even see him again anyway.

And you were right. You didn’t see him that following Monday. Not on the ride to work, not on the ride home.

When you didn’t see him on Tuesday, you figured he would just be gone forever, and he could stay someone you could form an answer around if someone asked what your type was.

Truth be told, you probably didn’t even have a type. Your university days were filled with LSAT cramming and trying to figure out where you wanted your life to go, and when you got into law school, the academic rigor was too much for you to even consider having a crush on someone. Now, as a practicing attorney, you were able to relax a tiny bit, and you certainly had more time than when you were a student, but you didn’t have any particular interest in dating. People were attractive, sure, but that had more to do with their charms than it did their appearance.

The week continued as normal, with Erwin popping by your desk more than usual to ask about how it’s been taking the bus. He sounded just about ready to give up his own spot given how guilty he sounded, but you reassured him that he was probably the only person in the department that absolutely needed to have his car on him.

Armin, Eren, and Mikasa offered to grab lunch for you (seeing as you didn’t have a car to go out for food anymore), and you spent that entire week eating with them in your office.

You were glad that they were able to explore the city a bit more now that they didn’t have to worry about parking, and it was nice to be able to have lunch with someone else. You hadn't had lunch with anyone since Petra started going to the upper floor to have lunch with Olou. The three of them seemed to really appreciate you giving them their spot too, even going as far as to try and pay for your lunches that week, but you just waved them off and explained you had more than enough money. They weren’t too much younger than you—just 3 years younger—but you knew better than to let them waste even more of their money on downtown food that was already overpriced.

By the time Friday came around, you had completely forgotten about the man on the bus, and your days were filled with paperwork, meeting with clients, and having lunch with your new favorite interns.

Imagine your surprise when, a whole week later, you saw him again, sitting at the exact same spot as last time.

You guess you didn't consider he only takes the bus on Fridays. Or maybe just at a different time, since you got off of work at 5 on other days of the week. Either way, you avoided looking at him altogether to save face, but you still felt a bit of heat reach your face at just the thought of him being there.

When you got home, you went through the same motions as last Friday.

Splashing your face with water, looking at yourself red as a tomato, and groaning into your couch cushions to curse the universe for making such a perfect looking man.

After the fourth Friday you see him, you accept that this is just how your weekly encounters with the devilishly handsome stranger will go.

You don't even get to decide whether or not the stranger on bus 143 ends up becoming someone you think about every week.

✰

You sigh as you step into your apartment, letting your blush settle just as it does every Friday.

The air has gotten colder now that it's January, and you're grateful you wore a scarf today to both shield you from the cold and hide your blush. After hanging your scarf over one of the chairs in the dining room, you head immediately into the bathroom to get a quick check at your reflection, not even bothering to try to get the red to go away. You just empty out your pockets on the countertop, not wanting to deal with the discomfort of your items pushing into your skin in a few seconds.

You know all too well that you need to go take a breather on your couch to cool your face, so you just head over and throw yourself into your cushions, groaning and kicking your legs. In your anguish, you hear the faint ringing of your phone from the bathroom. You barely register it as your phone, but once you do, you bolt up off the couch and rush to the sound and pick up without checking the caller ID.

"Hello?" You say into your mic, bringing your phone up to your ear and trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"Hi! Can I come over?" You immediately recognize the voice as Hange's, so you relax into yourself again.

Before you even try thinking of an answer, you go back to your couch and flop onto it again. You move one of the pillows under your chin and shift around so you're lying on your stomach. Your phone's on the couch itself, and your hands keep your face propped up.

"Huh? Why? Aren't you at work?"

"Do I need a reason to see you? I miss you, and I got out early today!"

You shake your head with a small smile. Leave it up to Hange to joke with you.

"Hange, you live 2 doors down from me, I see you every morning. I got breakfast with you yesterday too!"

You can almost see them nervously smiling and scratching the back of their neck at your comment.

"Still! Can I come hang out? I've been craving some of your cookies, and you haven't made them in so long!"

"What cookies are you talking about this time?"

"I'm feeling like snickerdoodle today."

You roll your eyes, starting to get up. "Yeah. Yeah, you can come. If you're already at my door, it's unlocked."

There's a beep from your phone, indicating that the call's over.

Sure enough, Hange comes through your door in record time and saunters across the entryway and living room to give you a hug.

"Hange! Shoes!" You chastise. You return their hug, nonetheless, and they just laugh wholeheartedly.

They pull away from you before taking off their shoes and walking over to the shoe rack to drop them off. "Sorry! I got too excited thinking about the cookies. Besides, it's been forever since we hung out on a Friday!"

Lately, they've been staying late at their lab on Fridays. Something about some new scientific discovery and wanting the lab to themselves to research.

Oh well, such is the life of a scientist.

"How'd you even finish so early? You're usually at work until night on Fridays."

They laugh and motion for you to move over to the kitchen. They rest their face in their hands at the countertop, and you go to a cupboard to start grabbing ingredients and tools for the cookies they wanted. "Some other guys are staying late to work on a project, so I figured I'd head home after lunch. I got a snickerdoodle ad when I was—wait! Why's your face all red? Are you sick?"

At the mention of your apparently still-present blush, you look up at Hange to see them lean even closer to you.

"What? No, I'm not sick."

"Are you sure? You look really red, even your ears are pink."

You turn away from Hange as quickly as you can to avoid their gaze, opting to go to the fridge and get the rest of the things you need for the cookies. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

And just like that, you can almost hear the smile break out on their face.

"Holy shit! Do you like someone?"

You stop moving, milk carton in hand. You quietly shift to put it on the counter before turning back to get the eggs.

Your silence is probably more than enough to get Hange to keep going.

"So you do like someone! Who is it? Who!?"

Your face heats up at Hange's comment, and even though you have all the ingredients out and ready to go, you suddenly feel too shy to start. "I don't like anyone. You're making things up. Seeing things, too."

To that, they just straight up laugh in your face.

"You got even redder! Of course you like someone! Who is it? Is it one of those interns at your firm? Nothing's hotter than an office romance!"

You make a face of disgust at them and decide to start weighing out what you need. "God, no! They're all so young!"

"Well, they're the only people you talk about nowadays, I figured it'd be one of them. It's not your senior at work, is it?"

"No, it's not him. I barely even talk about him, I think I only brought him up when I was talking about how I had to give up my parking spot a couple months ago."

"Well, who is it? Is it me? I can keep a secret," they tease, continuing to badger you.

You roll your eyes at that and sigh.

It wouldn't be so bad to tell Hange about him, would it?

Besides, there's no way you actually like him. No, you don't even know him. You just... think he's pretty hot.

That's all.

Maybe they'd drop it if you explained it was just a stranger you saw every week. Maybe actually telling someone about it would help you not feel as anxious having to see him every week. It wasn't like you actually liked fussing over a man you didn't know.

You've been mindlessly mixing the ingredients together, now switching over from a whisk to a spatula to get the wet and dry parts combined. 

You know Hange's gonna get you talking at some point, so probably better to just rip the band-aid off now.

"There's this guy on the bus. I think he's attractive, that's all," you mutter. Hange seems to light up at the information, and the excited cheer from them tells you that you maybe didn't make the greatest choice telling them about your bus guy.

"Well, tell me about him! What's he like? Have you talked to him? What's his name?" You nervously laugh at their questions and sort of bitterly continue mixing the dough.

"I've got no idea. He just sits there, looks pretty, and gets off, like, two stops before the one I do."

They whistle, not seeming to care that you knew nothing about him. "He's gotta be a real looker if he's got your attention with just that! You're gorgeous, your kids together would be beautiful! Describe him to me, maybe I know him!"

You scoff at that, reaching over the counter to give them a playful punch to the shoulder. "No fucking way, Hange. There's no way you know him."

"If you're so sure of that, then tell me!"

You dramatically groan, wanting to play up your frustration, but it's nice that Hange's so invested in this to keep asking questions.

The two of you met 5 years ago, about a month before your first year of law school started.

You struggled to get your couch up the stairs, and they laughed at you for a good minute or two before helping you up.

Turns out, they only lived 2 doors down and were excited to get a new neighbor their age because, quote, "all the people on this floor are old and grumpy!" It worked out that they wanted to hang out so often because you didn't know anyone in the area yet, and you probably would've become a hermit without them to drag you around.

Hange was doing their master's program, though, so it's not like you went out all the time.

On nights where they had too much on their plate, you'd come over with a batch of cookies and your textbooks so they wouldn't feel so lonely working alone. When you were crammed, they'd come over with some poorly brewed coffee and their laptop so the two of you could watch a bad movie when you were done studying. When you both graduated, you shifted to doing more homely activities, like doing laundry together or meeting up to buy furniture, but the two of you still met regularly outside of when you'd bump into each other in the morning on the way to work.

It was nice to have a friend who accepted you as you were. You knew too that they had a larger friend group that met every so often, but Hange never forced you to join them on their nights out. They'd ask, you'd decline, and they'd happily come back sometime later, usually the next day, and talk all about all the fun things they did. It wasn't that you didn't want other friends.. It was just daunting to try and become apart of a group of friends who've known each other for what seemed like forever.

You made other friends in grad school and later at work, but having Hange at your side throughout all the changes of the past couple years was greatly comforting, even if the two of you didn't really know each other's friends beyond quick descriptions and stories.

To hell with it, there's no way Hange knows this guy. They're right, it wouldn't matter if you told them what he looked like.

You grab some plastic wrap from the far side of the counter and start transferring your dough onto it.

"Alright. Let me put this in to chill first, and we can gossip on the couch."

They almost look surprised, but they get over it pretty quickly and rush over to the couch, making a big show out of getting comfortable. You roll your eyes yet again and close up the plastic wrap around the dough, turning to open the fridge and chuck it in.

"Hurry up! I wanna hear all about him!"

You walk over to them with a shy smile, and when you sit down, you wrap the blanket around yourself before turning to face them.

"Well, what do you wanna know?"

"Everything! But let's start with appearance! What color's his hair? What does he wear when you see him?" Your face starts to burn up yet again at the image of him in your head, but you figure you can bear with it while you talk to Hange.

"His hair's black. It's styled in an undercut. He's usually wearing a suit, but he's probably just coming home from work or something."

Hange seems to be a bit surprised again, but instead of lingering on it, they move on quickly to the next question. "And his face?"

"I've never really gotten a good look at it since he's always looking down, but his eyes are this really pretty grey. I.. don't really know how to describe faces without sounding stupid."

Hange's just eating this up, aren't they? They look like they're racking their brain for other questions, so you figure you could tell them about his keychain to give them some more time to think about what to ask next.

"He has a bird keychain on his backpack, it's pretty cute! It's white, and-"

"Did you just say bird keychain?" Hange interrupts, eyes seemingly boring into your soul. You nod slowly.

"Yeah? Does that mean something to you?"

Instead of answering, Hange goes to their back pocket to take out their phone. After some swiping and tapping, they hand you their phone. On the screen is a picture of... a bird keychain? It's pretty blurry, but it looks just like the one that guy on the bus had.

"Hange, you're messing with me. You just googled a picture of a white bird keychain and got lucky, right?"

You see them shake their head, and it takes you a second to process what that could mean.

"Please tell me you're fucking with me. Please tell me you have no idea who I'm talking about." You stare at them intensely, waiting for an answer from them.

"You take the 143, right?"

You nod slowly.

Instead of asking another question, they break out into a huge smile and tackle you into a hug, squealing excitedly. "I totally know who you're crushing on! Oh gosh, I gotta introduce you to each other immediately! You two would be so good together!"

Well, at least you know now he's single.

"I told you, I don't like him! He's just someone I see on the bus!"

They let go of you but keep their hands on your shoulders, that shit-eating grin still on their face.

"Darling, I'm not letting you get out of this one! Oh, this is perfect! We're having dinner on Sunday, you have to come!"

Before you can even protest, Hange starts rambling on about the details (most of which fly over your head) while animatedly moving their hands.

You knew how hard Hange went when it came to things they wanted. They worked relentlessly in their master's program, they were in charge of setting up plans for their friend group, and they even got your landlord to lower the rent a couple years back.

There was no way you could stop them from dragging you to this dinner. You knew that you really weren't going to "get out of this one," whatever that meant.

Better to accept your fate than fight it, you guess.

But... even though you know you'll be embarrassed to death and you'll probably have to figure out a new bus route to completely avoid this guy after whatever shenanigans Hange's bound to pull, you somehow don't regret telling them about him. They look so happy just thinking about you coming to dinner with them (who even is them?), and you don't have the heart to refuse them and break that joy. They'd never pressured you before into hanging out with their other friends before, so... maybe this could make up for you never taking up their offer to go out with the group.

Or maybe you could figure out how to change your identity and move continents by Sunday.

Yeah, maybe you could do that instead.

But first, you'll have to finish baking those stupid snickerdoodle cookies for Hange.

✰

Next Chapter

[ya-pucking-nerd]

4 times you ruined his plans and 1 time he ruined yours - c.makar

Hello lovelies! So sorry for the wait! Please enjoy <3333

~ 

taggin the moots: @2manytabsopen @jostystyles @typical-simplelove @youngbeezersmixtape @imagines-r-s @fallinallincurls @hockeylvr59

Small note: reader insert is female! 

Very big note: this fic contains mentions of pregnancy and surgery and motherhood

1. 

Calgary International. Not exactly how you planned to spend your Saturday, but you wanted to be back in Seattle to rest up before you started your job again. You were on your way back from the short 4-day holiday you managed to snag after Christmas and Boxing Day. You stayed with your brother, Michael, and his family of 7. It was nice, but 5 kids are so many kids.

You had gotten anxious about missing the flight, so you arrived at the airport 4 hours early and, fortunately, breezed through security. All that remained was waiting the 3 hours and 52 minutes until your flight officially left the gate. Well, at least you had a book and headphones. 

You sat near your gate, still nervous that you might lose track of time and miss the calling of your flight. But you set an alarm for 60 minutes before the flight would leave so that you would have plenty of time to await the calling of flight AIRCAN1442. So, for now, you set your phone aside and pull out your iPod Nano and headphones. Call it old-school, but that thing worked as well as the day you got it. Your current read is a book called It All Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover. You loved it so much, that it was actually a re-read. And apparently, the guy who sat across from you did, too. You noticed him staring, and at first, you thought it was at your book, but the more you thought about it, maybe he was looking at you.

He was cute in a boyish way. Solidly built, but you could tell a lot of it was muscle. He wasn’t dressed like a snobby businessman, but rather a guy who wanted to be comfy on his flight to wherever he was headed, like you.

In a moment of boldness, you closed your book and said, “Where are you off to?” It was small talk, but hey, you still had 3 hours to kill. 

“Oh. Me?” He looked stunned that you even looked his way. “I’m headed back to work in Denver, Colorado.”

“Oh, that’s awesome! I work in the states, too. Seattle, Washington.”

“What do you do?” And for once, he seemed genuinely interested, unlike the men you had met at bars. 

“I’m a surgical OBGYN.” Now, that might have freaked him out a little. 

“Oh wow. Sorry, I’m a little squeamish about blood. But wow. I can’t even imagine. That must be exciting. I hardly remember when my mom was pregnant with my brother, but I just remember my dad said there was a lot of screaming. Do you get screamers all the time?” 

Ok. He was absolutely adorable. His cheeks were getting bright red as he asked, aside from the redness you already noticed. Doctor thing. 

“I don’t generally do normal births. More like C-sections and stuff. But, yea, there’s always screaming. Occupational hazard, I guess. I’m Y/N.” You reached your hand out. 

“Oh, shoot. I didn’t even ask your name. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m Cale, like the vegetable, but with a C.” He shook your hand a little longer than most handshakes last. He was still smiling, though. 

You giggled a little. He probably got that all the time and had become accustomed to introducing himself that way. Further increasing his adorableness. 

You guys talked for about 2 hours until Cale checked his watch. “Shit! I missed my flight! Oh my god.”

“Oh my god! I am so sorry! I-“

“Nah,” he interrupted. “You know what. I think everything happens for a reason. I’m glad I met you. I would miss my flight all day to keep talking to you.” He was so sweet. “But I do need to rebook my flight,” he laughed. 

“And I do need one more thing.” You looked at him and nodded, silently asking him what that could be. “Your number?”

2. 

You had talked to Cale almost every day since you met him. It seemed the two of you would never get the chance to meet up in person. Until Cale texted you on Tuesday.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

“Y/N! I have a game Thursday night in Seattle! There’s a morning skate, but my afternoon would be free. Wanna grab coffee somewhere? You know Seattle better than me :)”

The butterflies in your stomach were uncontainable at this point. You knew you liked him, but you just now realized how big of a crush you had on him. 

Frank, the best birthing coach on the floor, popped up in front of you with a smirk on his face. 

“Heyyyyy, Y/N.” Ok. He was up to something. 

 You put your phone down and took the bait. “What’s up, Frank?” 

“Who has you smiling at your phone? You haven’t smiled at your phone since Paul from oncology asked you out on a date. That was three years ago, honey. You, you are not subtle.” Caught red-handed. The worst part was that he was right. Super right. You haven’t been on a date for almost three years. You were a devoted doctor, always on-call. Sometimes it ruined your nights out with your coworkers, but half the time, they ended up running to the hospital with you. 

“Frank. I- No. It’s nothing.” 

Frank smirked before he grabbed your phone and started texting faster than any average human should be able to. It was no use trying to grab it back because Frank was the sneakiest and most agile person you’d ever seen. Frank could probably do more intense gymnastics than Simone Biles if it meant he would keep your phone. 

He comes back with your phone and a smirk on his face.

“First date secured, bitch.” And the smirk grows to a smile. “Thursday at 2 at Pike Place.” 

You groaned. “Frank! I’m on-call Thursday afternoon!”  

“Y/N, chill. Literally, nothing is going to happen. And if it does, I’ll hold them off. It’s just pregnant ladies.” He laughed it off as if giving birth was something you could just hold like your bladder. 

You glared at him but were secretly happy he took the initiative instead of you. You would have typed and deleted and re-typed for an hour before answering. 

Thursday morning came, and you woke up giddy. You Facetimed Frank to get his opinion on an outfit. He picked the grey sweater dress with a red flannel tied around the waist, calling it “the perfect winter outfit!” Wallet? Check. Keys? Check. Spare scrubs in case you are called in? Unfortunately, check. 

Meanwhile, the boys were giving Cale a hard time in the hotel. He was dressed in his suit because after your date, he had to head straight back to the arena for the game. Nate was messing his hair up. JT hid one of his dress shoes. By the time he got out the door, he was more nervous than ever. He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend. The boys teased him for his crush, but he knew how he felt. You were his dream girl. 

You decided to meet at Starbucks. Seattle, after all, was the home of the original Starbucks. When you got there, you found Cale sitting in a booth, looking incredibly good in his suit. You started to doubt your choice in outfit, but it was too late. He saw you. You straightened your dress out and walked over. He stood up, giving you a hug and handed you a latte. 

“Cale, you didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to. I guessed on the latte. I can get you another if you don’t like it.”

“No, it’s actually perfect.” So now the perfect guy already got your coffee order right. It was too good to be true, right?

Things were going so well. The conversation felt so natural, like you were already dating. You found out he was continuing some online classes while playing hockey, he was a type-a neat freak, and he called his mom at least once a week because he loved her. Each thing you learned about him made your crush on him grow.

About an hour and a half into the best first date of your life, your phone buzzed. Inwardly, you prayed that it was just Frank texting you about a funny hospital story. Unfortunately, it was a page. A mom with twins went into labor 6 weeks earlier than her due date. You groaned out loud. 

“I have to go. I’m so sorry. Oh, I knew this was going to happen. I’ve been paged to the hospital. A mom needs an emergency c-section. Cale, I’m so sorry.” 

“What? Y/N, go! Don’t apologize. I know your career can be a bit unpredictable. It’s no big deal. Go, save the day!” God, he was perfect. You thanked him profusely before rushing out. 

An hour later, you were stripping your gown and gloves. You scrubbed and changed before leaving the hospital. The paperwork could wait. You wanted to call Cale before his game to wish him good luck. You truly felt horrible. 

Instead, you found a text from Cale.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

Hey, could I have your address? I don’t know how long surgery takes, but it’s probably tiring, and I don’t want you to forget to eat. Dinner’s on me, just need the address for UberEats.

The shock on your face was probably laughable. 

From: Y/N Y/L/N

How about I make you dinner? You can come over after your game and I can make up for running out on you? I promise I’m not tired.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

Absolutely! What did you have in mind?

From: Y/N Y/L/N

Pancakes? Feeling some breakfast for dinner.

From: Cale like the vegetable but with a C

Perfect. I’ll see you around 10 :)

You texted him your address and you wished him good luck in his game. Then, you panic cleaned your apartment. It wasn’t extremely messy, but you were a little sloppy this morning when you were getting ready. 

At 10:15, you buzzed Cale in. The two of you shared blueberry pancakes and finished your date. 

“I’m sorry, again, for running out on our date. Totally bad first date.” 

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “Hey, I’m not mad. I swear. I think your job is so cool, and pregnant people going into labor is like the most unpredictable thing I can think of. Besides, I don’t think this date turned out so bad.” His stomach did a cartwheel when you squeezed his hand back. 

You smiled back, loving the way he was rubbing your palm. It gave you butterflies. 

“Hey, can I ask you something? I was going to ask you at Starbucks, but I think now is better.” Cale asked. You nodded. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

3. 

Cale was the most incredible guy on Earth. You had been dating for one year and a month when he finally asked if you would consider moving in with him. His cheeks turned red when he asked you. He said, “I know you love your job, and I would never ask you to quit it. More like a transfer?” about 5 times. He even told you he asked Nate’s girlfriend, Alyssa, about openings at the hospital. For you, the choice was obvious. You had been thinking about making the transfer when you hit your first anniversary. But watching him sweat because he didn’t want you to feel that he thought you should give up your amazing career was probably one of the sweetest things you had ever witnessed him do.  

Your transition from Seattle to Denver was smooth as silk. Maybe because Cale organized the whole thing. He was there to help you pack, and he was there to greet the moving trucks when they arrived in Denver. Slowly but surely, your belongings began to infiltrate his house. The spare bedroom became your storage until the two of you sat down to figure out all the things you could give away. Your seasonal throw pillows decorated his couch, and the smell of your perfume lingered on Cale’s bedsheets. 

Cale played the best he ever had the day you finally came to see a home game in person. And it didn’t go unnoticed. The girls you sat with giggled all 4 times Cale assisted a goal and skated over to your section with a toothy grin and a point into the crowd. You assumed the boys were chirping him, too. And when he was named “first star,” he could hear your cheers from the other side of the arena. 

One night, you found yourself at a Denver Nuggets game with Cale. He invited you after JT bailed on him. At first, you were hesitant because he told you he got good seats. The word “good” seats usually imply expensive seats, and you weren’t used to people spending that type of money on you. You offered to pay him back for your ticket, which he refused. See, Cale was raised right. His mom taught him that he should always pay for his date, no matter how big or small that date should be.

Cale did invite JT first, but he was relieved when JT said no. He had been feeling like this for a while but wasn’t sure if the time was right. Cale was ready to tell you he was in love with you. He knew how big the words were. And yes, maybe it was a little soon, but they say when you know, you know. 

You started walking towards the “General Admissions” entrance, when Cale grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the “LEXUS CLUB” entrance. The two of you walked down one of the many staircases of Ball Arena, Cale making small talk. Then, you noticed just how many stairs down you were walking. When you finally got to the bottom of the stairs and through the door, you realized just how good the good tickets were. They were courtside seats. 

“Relax, Y/N.” Cale grabbed your waist, leading you to your seats. They were in the middle of Ball Arena. You stared at Cale in amazement. How could someone so be so amazing? 

The game was exciting. You and Cale each got food and some beer. Despite not knowing much about basketball or its players, you were having a good time, until the free throw competition. During a commercial break, people were coming down the stands for the free throw competition. The people were doing pretty good, until a basketball bounced off the rim. You saw the basketball coming towards you at a very fast speed. You completely acknowledged that. Did you move out of the way? Did you use your hand to block your face? Absolutely not.

The ball hit you square on the head. In an instant, Cale was on the floor with you. When did you get on the floor? He was saying your name, but it sounded muted almost. The jumbotron camera man was on your right, pointing his camera at you and Cale. Your vision was a little blurry, but you focused hard enough to see yourself on the jumbotron. It was a sight to see. 

Cale was tugging on your arm to help you up. Your balance was definitely off. You must have said that out loud, because Cale said, “Alright. Let’s get you to the hospital. I think you might have a concussion. It’ll be okay, baby. I’m right here.” 

You didn’t know it, but Cale was a little disappointed that the night hadn’t gone how he’d planned. He wanted you to enjoy the game, and then he wanted to tell you he loved you. This was not in the plans. 

He turned down the lights so you wouldn’t get a headache. You wanted nothing more to sleep on the way to the emergency room, but Cale wouldn’t let you. What if the ball had hit something that made your brain bleed? No, Cale couldn’t take the risk. He turned on soft music in the car to keep you awake and kept talking about anything he could think of to keep you awake. 

He pulled up to the valet, despite your insistence that you could be alone for a few minutes while he found a parking spot, but he was stubborn. “I am not leaving you, Y/N. I don’t want you to fall over or something.” If you weren’t so dizzy, you would have found it sweet. 

As embarrassing as it was, having your accident go viral on Twitter helped you in the emergency room.

“Hey! It’s Y/N from OB! She just got hit in the head! Let’s get her in!” you heard an intern shout. 

You were seen fairly quickly and diagnosed with a mild concussion. No work for a week, stay off screens as much as possible, and definitely no more courtside Nuggets games. 

Cale stayed by your side the whole time. He was dozing off holding your hand waiting for the discharge papers. He was doing that thing where he rubs the palm of your hand with his thumb that gave you butterflies. You leaned down to kiss his forehead to thank him for staying with you.

“Love you, babe,” he whispered. You did a double-take. His adorable cheeks flared red. “I- uh- well. Yeah, I love you, Y/N. I was meaning to tell you after the game. I wanted it to be special. I’m sorry it wasn’t more romantic. I wanted there to be roses and champagne.” 

“Cale. I love you, too. This is perfect. I’m sorry for ruining your plans.” You giggled. “We can have a re-do sometime. Just not courtside.” You kissed his forehead and then his lips. You really loved this boy. 

4. 

Generally, you would consider yourself pretty fearless. You worked in surgery with screaming parents for God’s sake. You loved going on adventures, especially hiking through Colorado. But, this test on the counter was scaring the shit out of you.

You didn’t tell Cale. You didn’t want to freak him out in case you were overreacting. You and Cale were certainly not trying, but you had to admit, you would be a little sad if the test came out negative. Already spiraling before you knew the results, you began to think about Cale as the father to your child. You thought he would make the most amazing girl dad. But on the other hand, Cale teaching his little baby boy how to hold a hockey stick would be so sweet.  

The timer on your phone went off. This was the moment of truth. 

It’s positive. Now would probably be the time to tell Cale. With shaking hands, you texted Cale, asking when he’d be home from practice. 

From: Cale <3

Actually, you got me at the perfect time. Practice just ended and no film. Great day! How do you feel about Indian food? 

The thought of Indian food made your stomach grumble. In your haste to take the pregnancy test, you forgot to eat lunch. You requested butter chicken and garlic naan.

Cale came back to your shared home with your order and an extra mango lassi. He didn’t even know you were pregnant yet, but he was already doing the most.

“Cale, I wanted to ask you something.” You were so nervous.

“What’s up?”  

“I’ve just been thinking about it recently. How do you… how do you feel about kids?” You weren’t ready to ask him about the kid growing in your uterus. You decided to start off your questions in general statements.

“Oh, I love kids. Why do you ask?”

“Well, Cale, I mean, like, your own kids. How do you feel about having your own kids?”  

“Kids someday would be nice.” He smiled. He began thinking about his own little boy. Your stomach dropped. He said “someday.” And no, he didn’t know that his kid was sitting in your uterus. How could he have? But his reaction just made you nervous. “Why do you ask, Y/N?” 

“Just thinking about it. I work with babies all day, you know?” You felt a bit bad about lying to him, but it wasn’t really a lie, right? You were thinking about it recently, and you did work with babies all day. 

Cale knew after that response that something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. He thought he did well with the Indian food, but he knew you well enough that you would have told him upfront if you didn’t want the Indian food. The problem was something deeper than Indian food.

You helped him clean up the food and told him you were going to take a nap and asked if he wanted to come with. Cale happily accepted.  You climbed on top of the bed instead of snuggling under your mountain of blankets, and he knew something was really wrong. You loved your blankets. Even in the summer, you turned the AC down so you could still use your mountain of blankets. 

“Y/N, please. What’s wrong? You’re making me worried.” He climbed on the bed with you, and tucked you in a blanket, hoping it would give you the comfort he couldn’t.

“I don’t know how to say it, Cale. I don’t want you to be upset.” He was holding both your hands, fighting a few tears. He thought this was the “breakup talk.” He didn’t want to cry, but he could hardly imagine himself not being with you. He wanted to fight for you with everything he had.

“Cale, honey, why are you crying? I haven’t even told you yet.” He looked at you in shock. This wasn’t the breakup talk? What else could it be? “Cale. I’m pregnant. I took a test. It’s in the bathroom. I didn’t know how you would react. I’m so sorry.” All the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

Cale felt his entire world freeze. Almost instantly, he pictured the little boy from earlier in the afternoon. He pictured teaching him hockey and how to be a gentleman. Dressing him up with little bowties. Giving him a mohawk when his hair is wet. And above all else, he pictured doing all those things with you. 

“Oh, Y/N! This is fantastic news! What do you mean you didn’t know how I would react. Oh God, I am … I don’t even know the words. But, no, I would never be mad. Oh!” He bent down so his face was in front of your stomach. He put his hand on your stomach, and he swore he fell more in love than he even knew was possible.  

“Do you know the gender?” His eyes were so hopeful. He wanted a boy so badly.

“No, I just found out. We’ll know around the fourth month.” 

He paused for a moment. “Can I tell the boys?” 

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, playfully. He eagerly whipped out his phone, typing fast. You knew the boys wouldn’t be able to hide it from their girlfriends/wives, so you grabbed your phone waiting for the avalanche of texts you would receive. 

The first trimester went well, considering the way the first trimester went for other women. You went through bouts of morning sickness and moodiness, but Cale took it in stride. Each time you were bent over the toilet, he was there holding your hair back. When you told the nurses on your floor, they were all so excited for you. They threw you a small party in the break room. They decorated onesies with glitter glue and markers. They told every single patient of yours, too. Every room you entered, you were greeted with “congratulations” from patients about ten minutes from having their own babies. Their excitement made you even more excited for your little bundle of joy. You were barely showing, but you wore slightly tighter clothing just to highlight your stomach.

The second trimester was about to begin, and you and Cale were sitting together in your office, waiting for your appointment. Today was the day you were going to get an envelope so you could find out the gender. You knew Cale would be happy if it was a girl, but you also knew he deeply wanted a boy. He talked constantly about a little baby boy. He even bought little baby hockey gear and skates.

Amanda, your doctor and colleague, came into the room. She explained everything she was going to do, then laughed because she realized you knew it already. Then, the dreaded question. “Would you like to know the gender?”

“Actually, could you just put the results in an envelope? We’re going to give it to a friend. We’re doing one of those gender reveal parties.”  

“Oh! That’s so exciting! Will do. But for now, I see ten fingers, ten toes, and a healthy heartbeat. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” You and Cale both nodded, and you teared up a little bit when you heard the heartbeat. Sometimes, you forgot that you were growing a literal, living tiny human. It was difficult to conceptualize.

At the end of the appointment, Amanda gave you a sealed envelope, and you rushed over to Alyssa Mackinnon’s house to give her the gender of baby Makar. When you told her a few weeks ago that you wanted to have a gender reveal party, she squealed and asked if she could plan it. You agreed, and then fawned over party themes and ideas for the actual reveal.   

The party day came. You wore a pink dress. Cale wore a blue polo and khakis. When you got to Alyssa and Nate’s house, the whole team, your friends from work, Cale’s parents and brother, your parents, and your brother and his family were there. All the people that were important in your life were here to see whether baby Makar was a girl or boy. 

Alyssa had a few small party games going on along with a blackboard for people to tally their guesses on your baby’s gender. The men took turns racing to put diapers on footballs, while the women wrapped around your stomach with ribbons to measure how round your belly was. Then, Alyssa announced to the guests that it was time to step outside. When you stepped outside, you saw a goal post with a white balloon hanging from the top post. And you got so excited. 

You knew what was about to happen. Cale was going to shoot a puck at the balloon, and you were going to know the gender. Cale grabbed the stick from Alyssa and took aim. 

DING. Hit the post. POP. The balloon bled pink confetti. A GIRL! You squealed with joy, running over to Cale, giving him just enough time to drop the hockey stick and catch you in his arms. You started to cry tears of joy. Cale was crying, too. But soon, your overactive overthinking kicked in. How did Cale really feel? You were forced to push down the anxiety as your families and friends swarmed you and Cale with congratulations. 

The guests slowly made their way back inside Alyssa and Nate’s house to head out. You wanted to stay until the end to help her clean up and to thank her for all the hard work she put in for your gender reveal. You were packing paper plates into a garbage bag when you heard a loud gasp behind you.

“Y/N! Give me that! You are pregnant! Sit down! Kick your feet up! Don’t you dare touch another paper plate!” Alyssa cried. She pointed at your stomach and then to the couch. You handed her the bag and sat down on her couch. She gave you the “I’m watching you” stare before resuming what you had started. A minute later, Cale appeared. He sat down next to you, and you knew this was your chance to talk to him.

“Cale, how are you feeling? I know you wanted a-”

“Y/N. I’m happy. We both knew I wanted a boy, but I’m not upset. I swear. I just wanted our baby to be healthy. Her happiness is my top priority, not her gender.” You could have sworn your heart grew three sizes. You may have ruined his plan to be a boy-dad, but you always had a feeling he was a girl-dad anyway. 

The next four months passed without a hitch. The OBGYN floor had a field day with your baby shower. Mel Landeskog planned a separate shower, and with permission from the hospital, she brought the party to your break room. You thought you received a lot of gifts at the gender reveal, but now that everyone knew it was a girl, You and Cale swore you had enough baby clothing that you thought you never would need to do laundry because of how much they got for her. You had enough diaper boxes that they stacked from floor to ceiling in the nursery you and Cale had set up.  

At this point, you due date was 15 days away. Your belly was swollen to triple the size it used to be. Your feet hurt if you stood for longer than 20 minutes. You told Cale you just wanted the baby out. He would laugh at you and then take your feet and give them a massage. You really had the best boyfriend in the world. 

Truth be told, Cale was more prepared for a baby than you were. He had two go-bags packed – one for you two and one for the baby. You were extremely calm for that aspect of the actual birthing process. You also knew Cale wasn’t happy about you working, but you insisted on working until the minute your water broke. Your rationale was that you would already be at the hospital, and then as a bonus for your patients, you would be able to give them the care they needed. You just knew that the floor would take care of you. You knew each of the charge nurses. You knew how well they took care of their patients. They already told you that you would be their VIP patient. 

Today was relatively slow for you. You had no scheduled C-sections, you were only on-call for obstetric exams and emergencies that entered the ER. All of a sudden, you got a frantic call from Steph, the charge nurse in the ER. She was freaking out, as the entire ER staff did when a pregnant lady came in.

You went down and examined the woman and asked the nurses to admit her into the birthing wing when suddenly, you heard screaming. You rushed back over. She needed a C-section. You knew you weren’t supposed to, but you took an oath, and you had to save this woman and her baby’s life. You yelled at any nurse nearby to clear an ER for you and rushed up to scrub. 

You were gowned and gloved, finally. Mid-way through the C-section, you felt a pinching in your own stomach. You figured your baby decided to kick. It was only when nurse Kimmy gasped, “Y/N! I think your water broke!”

You barely registered the shout, but then you felt a tightening in your own stomach. A contraction. The nurses were already calling Cale without you even needing to ask them. They knew you were determined to finish the surgery. You pushed through and helped your patient deliver her baby. You took off your surgical gown and the nurses immediately put you in a wheelchair.

“Marci! I can walk myself to the OB wing!” you protested. She just shook his head and kept pushing you. You met Cale in the waiting room. The nurses had prepped a birthing suite for you the minute they found out your water broke. Cale brought both your go-bags into the room and helped you into the bag.

“You really had to be in surgery when your water broke?” he joked. He kissed your forehead, and together you waited and waited for your baby girl to make her grand entrance.

Marci came in periodically to check on you. The whole floor came in to say congratulations and dropped off some food. Maybe it was the hormones, but their love surrounded you, and it made you feel really good about having a baby. 

Finally, six hours later, baby girl Makar made an appearance. You and Cale never picked out a name. You could never decide. He thought of a name that you liked, but then you thought of another name. You would try to convince him of the new name, but then he would think of another one. The two of you were stuck. And now she was here! 

But as soon as you looked at her face, you knew the name. You looked at Cale, and both said at the same time, “Lilly Grace Makar!” 

+1. 

Your daughter, Lilly, was three, now. You and Cale were holding off on this for a long time, but you decided that the summertime would be the perfect time to go to Disney World in Florida. She loved watching Mickey Mouse in the mornings before daycare. Even though you both knew she wouldn’t remember the trip, you just wanted to take her for your own personal fun. 

At least, that’s what you told Cale. Secretly, though, you had other motives. Cale and you still weren’t married. Not even engaged. Obviously, the two of you were bound to each other forever. Cale was yours and you were Cale’s. But you just wanted the title of wife. It had been over six years since you went on that first date. You thought that was a reasonable amount of time to get engaged and married. And for goodness sake, you had a kid together and you hinted about wanting more for the past few months. 

So, that was where you hatched your plan. On a day off from work, you took Lilly to the mall. You told Cale she needed some new summer outfits because she grew out of the clothes she had in the spring. But you also made a quick pitstop at the jewelry store. You stole Cale’s Stanley Cup ring, too, so that you could get an accurate measurement. At the jewelry store, you picked out a solid silver band. Nothing extravagant, but enough for the occasion. At the end of the day, it was about your love for one another, not the extravagance of the ring. You were going to ask Cale to marry you at Disney World.

That same week, Cale entered the guest locker room in New Jersey, and pulled Gabe and Nate aside. He had a very important question. 

“Hey. So, how did you guys ask Mel and Alyssa to marry you? I think Y/N’s been dropping a lot of hints lately. I mean I know it’s just a title, because we’re both there, but I’m pretty sure it’s something she wants. I think I’m overthinking it.”

The two men laughed, remembering the times when they felt the same way. They each launched into their stories of asking their girlfriends to marry them. Gabe’s was intimate in Sweden. Nate’s was slightly public, in front of their families on the beach in Cole Harbour. 

They gave Cale a lot of ideas. He already knew the ring he was going to get you. He even knew he wanted to include Lilly in the proposal. He just didn’t know how public you wanted it to be. He thought about proposing in secret, like in the hotel room, but that didn’t feel romantic enough. He thought about proposing during the fireworks at Magic Kingdom, but that felt too public. 

You, on the other hand, had an exact plan. You wanted to propose in front of the Magic Kingdom castle. You figured that a proposal to hockey’s best defenseman would garner media attention regardless of how private you tried to make it. You might as well get some good photos out of it. 

You secured the ring you got for Cale in your carry-on. You had to hide it strategically, knowing Cale probably forgot something and would need to borrow it from your stash. Cale secured the ring he got for you in his suitcase between his underwear. There was no way you’d go through his underwear. 

The flight was smooth, Lilly was content to watch Mickey Mouse on the plane’s television screen. Cale insisted on first class, knowing this was Lilly’s first big vacation. She didn’t seem to notice, falling asleep about two hours into the flight. 

Arriving at your hotel, you unpacked and got onto the monorail to take you to Animal Kingdom. Lilly loved everything about it. The next day at Epcot was so much fun. She wouldn’t remember it, but you and Cale took enough combined pictures that you would never forget. Hollywood Studios was your favorite. 

The fated day finally came for you. Magic Kingdom. You secured the ring in your baby-backpack. You boarded the monorail with Cale and Lilly, as if everything was normal. Every bone in your body was on fire. You were nervous, but you wanted to be married to Cale. It was the only thing in the world that made sense. He was your rock. He gave the best advice. He was an incredible father. And you just knew in your gut he would be the best husband (not that he already wasn’t performing husband duties).

As excited as you were about proposing to Cale, you also wanted to do it early in the day so that you could enjoy the day with your daughter and hopefully-fiancé. 

“What do you wanna do first babygirl?” you asked Lilly as you and Cale grabbed her hands. 

 “Umm… I wanna see the princesses!” she shouted. Perfect. This would be the most perfect opportunity to walk towards the Magic Castle. 

Upon arrival, you stopped and pulled Lilly over to the side. Swinging your backpack down, you grabbed your phone and the ring box. 

“Lilly! Cale! Smile!” She posed with Cale in front of the castle. Cale put her down while you put your phone back in your bag and turned around with the ring box open. 

“Cale?” 

His face was in shock, but all of a sudden, he started laughing and reached into his own bag. Suddenly, Cale was down on one knee with a ring box while you stood in front of him with a ring box. 

Your face was flushed. People was stopping to look at you. But all you could see was Cale. Your perfect, sweet, caring, thoughtful fiancé. 

You screamed yes before he could even get the question out. He laughed as he put the ring on your finger. 

“Cale, you didn’t answer my question.” 

“You didn’t ask one, love.”

“Will you marry me, Cale Douglas Makar?” 

“It would make me the happiest man in the world.” He kissed you sweetly, and you slipped the ring on your finger. The small crowd of people around you cheered for you. Cale picked Lilly up and you handed your phone to a nice-looking couple and asked them to take a picture. And it now served as your wallpaper.  

A/N: Yes. This entire fic was based off of this tweet. No, I will not be taking questions. LMAO

https://twitter.com/virgoprincxss/status/1031921634951684097?s=20&t=t5DZrxlxwSquOAQ5pZi32Q 

I hope y’all enjoyed!!

[ayyezhongli]

drunken desires (top horny childe x drunk bottom zhongli)

Category: M/M

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Relationships: Childe and Zhongli

Characters: Childe and Zhongli

Tags: nsfw, non consensual, degradation, dirty talk, rough sex, drugging, drinking, smut

A/N: if you are uncomfortable with nonconsensual and drugging, I advise you not to read it. But anyway, I've been searching for a drunk Zhongli smut fic everywhere and couldn't find a good one. So I thought, why not make my own? So here it is, and I hope y'all enjoy it. I had sm fun writing it, too!!

It was a beautiful fall morning. Different shades of red, orange, yellow, and brown flew through the air. A beautiful ex-archon named Zhongli walked around—taking in every color he could see and enjoying nature to its fullest. A ginger man, Childe, walked up to him, poking him lightly. He looked over at the ginger man and then back to the world.

"Good morning."

Childe said, his voice intense.

"Good morning to you, too."

Zhongli replied. His voice was as smooth as silk. They both stood there for a few minutes, looking at the beauty of nature.

"I'm glad I ran into you; I wanted to talk to you about something."

Childe said.

"What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering if you want to go to dinner with me?"

"Sure, I'd love to!"

Zhongli said, giving Childe a small smile. The ginger man smiled and said,

"Great! I'll see you at Third-Round Knockout. 8 pm!"

"Sounds good!"

"See you later!"

Childe smiled and proceeded to walk on. Zhongli watched him walk away, admiring his figure. Then he turned around and started walking towards Third-Round Knockout.

"Third-Round Knockout,"

"That's where I'll be meeting him."

He headed back home to prepare for meeting up with Childe, losing track of the time he had to rush. He wore a loose blouse, and his hair was in a ponytail. Running out the door, he grabbed his coat and hurried to the restaurant. By the time Zhongli got there, he was ten minutes late. Zhongli walked into the restaurant and was greeted by the hostess.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Yes, I think there's a reservation under Tartaglia."

"For two?"

"Yes"

"Alright, right this way, sir."

She smiled back and led him to the table Childe was sitting at.

"Childe, I'm here!"

He said, smiling at him, slightly out of breath.

"Zhongli, I'm so glad you came!"

Once they got settled, a waiter came over and introduced himself.

"Hi, I'm Alex, and I'll be serving you today. Can I get you started with any drinks?"

"Oh, yes, please."

Childe said

"We'll start with some Osmanthus Wine and bring the whole bottle."

"Alright. I'll be back with your wine."

Alex said, going to get the bottle of wine.

"Whatchu thinking of getting to eat?"

Childe asked the brunette

"Hmmm... I might get the Slow-Cooked Bamboo Shoot Soup, which looks appetizing. And you?"

"I'm going to get the Prize Catch. It looks delicious."

After dealing with a previous customer, Alex headed to their table with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Setting the wine bottle down with two glasses, he took out his pad to place their order.

"Have you guys decided on what you want to get?"

Alex asked them. Childe responded first with his order.

"Let me have the prize catch."

"And for you, sir?"

Alex asked Zhongli, who was still thinking.

"Hmmm, I'll have the slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup."

"Alright, I'll return with your order in a minute."

Alex said, leaving them alone again. Childe poured the wine into each cup.

"I don't drink."

Zhongli said kindly. If Zhongli didn't drink, it would ruin his plans. He had to find a way to convince him.

"I did get your favorite wine, so let's loosen up a bit."

Not wanting to argue, Zhongli eventually agreed and took the filled glass. Childe watched closely as Zhongli pressed the glass to his lips, taking a sip. He savored the taste as he drank it all down in one go. It was delicious.

"Childe, this is exquisite!”

The ginger gave the brunette a warm smile.

"Glad you like it! Here, have more!"

He poured more into Zhongli's glass, trying to fill him up with alcohol. After some talking and tiny drinks here and there, Alex came back with the food.

"Here you go."

He said, setting down the bamboo shoot soup and the prize catch.

"Enjoy!"

"Thank you."

Zhongli said, picking up the chopsticks and digging into the dish.

"This is good."

"Mmhmm!"

Childe said, chewing his food. He washed it down with some whine and poured Zhongli another glass. He could tell Zhongli was a little tipsy when he saw his hands shaky when he held the chopsticks

"You're not drinking enough. You should have more."

Childe told him. Zhongli looked at him, wondering if he was serious.

"Well..."

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Childe assured him.

"That's not where I was going with that."

Zhongli said.

"Well, all I'm saying is that I think you need to have more than just one glass."

"But I already had three glasses."

"It doesn't matter, you need to have more."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"Zhongli, you can't deny how much you've enjoyed this meal. So I think you need to have more."

"Fine, I will have another glass."

"Good!"

Childe said, pouring Zhongli another glass.

"Now, eat up! I'm sure you're hungry after all that drinking."

Zhongli ate his food and drank more wine. After finishing his meal, he felt a little dizzy.

"I think I need to sit down for a moment."

Zhongli stumbled to the chair behind him and sat down heavily. Childe followed him and sat next to him.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? You seem a little dizzy."

"No, I'm fine. I just got a little drunk."

"Oh."

"I'm fine."

Zhongli said, leaning back in the chair.

"You know what?"

"What?"

Childe asked, looking at him curiously.

"I think you're right."

"About what?" l

"About me needing to have more."

"Huh?"

"I think I need more than one glass of wine."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well then, why don't we try that now?"

"Okay."

Childe was surprised at Zhongli's response, but wasn't going to stop him.

"How about we start with a shot of tequila?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Alright, let's go."

Zhongli stood up slowly, feeling a little light-headed.

"No, no, no, you stay right here."

Childe said, gently placing him back in his seat.

"I'll go get the drinks and be right back."

Childe said, getting up himself.

This was the finishing shot, and he'll finally have everything all set in motion. He grabbed the two tequilas from the bar and walked back over. Without anyone noticing, he slipped in some GHB powder and mixed it up in the drink. When he returned, he handed Zhongli the drink and sat back down.

"Here you go."

"Thanks."

Zhongli took the drink and quickly downed it. He coughed a little and put his hand over his mouth.

"That was strong."

"That's the shot!"

Childe said, handing Zhongli another one.

"Come on, you can do better than that."

Zhongli downed the second shot and coughed again.

"Wow, that was even stronger."

"There you go, you did great."

Childe said, patting Zhongli on the back.

"I think we should call it a night."

"Yeah, I think so too."

"Do you want to go home?"

"Sure, let's go."

Zhongli stood up and swayed a little bit when he tried to walk. He was drunk, super drunk. Childe placed Zhongli's arm around his neck and started to walk out, supporting Zhongli.

"We'll go to my place."

Zhongli nodded. He could've sworn he saw Childe grin. He had an evil grin, but maybe he was just too drunk. They left the restaurant and made their way to Childe's house.

"Let's get you inside."

Childe said as he put in the code and opened the door. Once inside, he closed the door and placed Zhongli on his bed softly. Childe removed Zhongli's shoes and his own and went to the other room. Zhongli was starting to feel the effects of the drug already. His head was spinning, his heart was pounding, and his body was tingling. The feeling of the drug coursing through his veins was making him feel hot. He was starting to sweat. He was too weak to remove his clothes, his breathing was unsteady, and he felt himself getting warmer and warmer. Hotter and hotter, something was building up inside him that needed to be released. Childe could hear Zhongli's small moans from the other room and feel himself growing hard.

He was going to fuck this man. He had wanted to for so long. He was going to make Zhongli cum like he never had before. It was time to take control. He quietly walked into the bedroom and watched Zhongli. His eyes were closed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, and his legs were spread open. His hands rested on his thighs, and his fingers were slightly curled. He was lying on his side, still wearing his shirt and pants. His legs were spread apart, and Childe could see his cock straining against his pants. He looked so sexy. He couldn't believe how turned on he was by watching Zhongli drunk and drugged. It was turning him on so much that he thought he might cum right there. But he had to control himself. He had to wait until Zhongli was entirely under his control. He had to make sure he was utterly helpless. And he knew exactly how to do it.

He slowly moved closer to Zhongli, standing behind him. He reached out and grabbed Zhongli's shirt and pulled it off his shoulders, exposing his naked chest. He ran his hand down Zhongli's chest, feeling the soft skin, and then moved lower, running his hand across Zhongli's stomach and down to his crotch. Zhongli gasped at the touch of Childe's hand on his crotch. He moaned and arched his hips forward, trying to get Childe's hand on his cock. Childe ignored his moans and continued to explore Zhongli's body.

He ran his hand over Zhongli's nipples and felt them grow hard. He pinched them lightly, causing Zhongli to gasp and arch his back even more. He moved his hand down Zhongli's belly and to his cock. He stroked Zhongli's cock, feeling it grow harder and thicker in his hand. Zhongli was groaning and thrusting his hips into Childe's hand. Childe smiled. He knew he had him now. He was going to have his way with this man. He would use him however he wanted. He would make him beg for mercy. He would make him suck his cock. He would make him cum all over himself. He would make Zhongli scream in pleasure.

He was going to give Zhongli everything he had ever dreamed about. Zhongli was so horny. And Childe had been dreaming about Zhongli for a very long time. He had been thinking about him for so long, fantasizing about him. He was jacking off to all the naughty things he wanted to do to Zhongli. And now, he is finally here. The once calm, reserved, and polite man, who holds an air of nostalgia, is right before him, needy and whining for his cock.

Zhongli was so close to losing control. He was so close to begging Childe to fuck him. He was so close to begging Childe to fill him with his thick cock. He was so close to cumming all over himself. He needed Childe's cock. He wanted it so badly. He needed it inside him, in his mouth. He needed it everywhere and needed it now so bad.

He needed to be fucked, used, dominated, owned. And he was going to get what he wanted. Childe was going to fuck him. He was going to fuck him until he came. And when he did, he would fill Zhongli's tight little hole with his cum. Childe took his cock in his hand and rubbed it against Zhongli's smooth ass. Zhongli moaned as Childe's cock slid over his skin. He pushed his ass back against Childe's cock, wanting it inside.

"Please," he begged.

"Please fuck me."

Childe laughed.

"You want my cock?"

He asked.

"You want my big, fat cock? You want to feel my cock slide into your tight little ass?"

Zhongli nodded frantically.

"Say it. Tell me what you want."

Zhongli couldn't believe that he was doing this. He was begging Childe to fuck him. He was begging to be fucked by Childe's colossal cock.

"I want your cock," he said.

"I want you to fuck me, use me, dominate me. Please fuck me!"

Childe smiled. He liked hearing Zhongli talk dirty. It made him even hornier.

"Tell me how much you want it," he demanded.

"Tell me how much you want my cock."

Zhongli was moaning. He was so horny. So fucking horny. He needed to be fucked. He needed to be fucked hard.

"I want your cock. I want it in my ass. I want you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me like you own me."

Zhongli was so turned on that he didn't care if anyone heard him. He didn't care if anyone saw him. He just needed Childe's cock. He needed it so badly. He needed it in his ass.

"Please, Childe! I want you to fill me up, use me as your fuck toy. Please, I want it so fucking badly!"

Zhongli was practically screaming now. He couldn't believe that he was saying these things. He was telling Childe precisely what he wanted. And Childe loved it. He loved hearing Zhongli beg. He loved hearing Zhongli beg to be fucked. He loved knowing that Zhongli was a total slut, a submissive slut. He loved that Zhongli was his. He loved that he could use Zhongli any way he wanted. And Zhongli knew that. He knew that he was completely at Childe's mercy. He knew he had to do whatever Childe told him to do.

"Well, you're not getting it. Not yet."

Zhongli almost burst into tears with how sexually frustrated he was.

"But I will let you have something else instead."

Childe said, pulling Zhongli's head up by the hair.

"I'm going to fuck your pretty little face. I'm going to fuck your throat until you choke on my cock. I'm going to make you gag on my cock. Then I'm going to make you lick my balls clean."

Zhongli's eyes went wide. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"That's right. You don't get to have my cock in your ass. But I'll let you have my cum in your mouth. I'll give you my load, which will go down your throat, choking on my cum."

"Now turn around and face me."

Childe said as he slapped Zhongli's ass. Zhongli did as he was told. He turned around and faced Childe. Childe smacked Zhongli's ass again.

"Open your mouth."

Childe ordered. Zhongli obeyed immediately. Childe grabbed Zhongli's hair and forced his cock into Zhongli's mouth. Zhongli gagged and tried to pull away. Childe held his head still and pushed his cock deeper into Zhongli's mouth. Childe started thrusting his cock in and out of Zhongli's mouth.

"Suck my cock. Suck my cock like a good little slut. That's right. You're my little cum slut!"

Zhongli gagged again and again. Childe kept fucking Zhongli's mouth. Zhongli's saliva was dripping off his chin. His eyes were watering. The taste of Childe's pre-cum was all over Zhongli's tongue. Zhongli felt Childe's cock twitch in his mouth. He knew that Childe was about to cum. And he knew he would swallow every drop of Childe's cum. Zhongli looked up at Childe. Childe was about to cum. And Zhongli wanted it. He wanted to taste Childe's cum. He tried to feel Childe's cum in his mouth. Childe stared back at him. He smiled. Childe came hard. He shot his load straight into Zhongli's throat. Zhongli choked and gagged. But he swallowed every last drop. When Childe finished cumming, he pulled his cock out of Zhongli's mouth. Zhongli gasped for air. He coughed and sputtered. He could taste Childe's cum in his mouth. It tasted so good. Childe laughed.

"Good boy. Now clean my cock."

Childe said. Zhongli eagerly complied. He cleaned Childe's cock with his tongue. He sucked Childe's cock clean. Zhongli felt like a complete whore. He was a cum slut. He was a cock sucker. He was a cum enslaved person. He was nothing more than a worthless cumslut. Zhongli was so happy. He didn't care anymore. He loved the taste of Childe's cum.

"Now, get on your hands and knees."

Childe commanded. Zhongli got on his knees. He looked up at Childe. Childe smiled. He loved that Zhongli belonged to him. Childe grabbed Zhongli's hips and shoved his cock deep inside Zhongli's ass. Zhongli let out a loud cry. He felt the head of Childe's cock pop into his ass. He was so full. Childe grabbed Zhongli's hips and started thrusting in and out of Zhongli's ass. Zhongli moaned loudly. He couldn't help himself. He loved being used. He loved being fucked. He loved feeling Childe's cock in his ass.

Childe thrust harder and faster. He fucked Zhongli's ass like a jackhammer. Zhongli cried out with each thrust.

"You like this? Huh? You like my cock in your ass?"

Childe asked. Childe slapped Zhongli's ass.

"Yes! Yes! Please! Fuck me!"

Zhongli begged.

"Please fuck me harder! Fuck me harder!"

Zhongli cried. Childe slapped Zhongli's ass again.

"I'm going to cum!"

Childe grunted, and Zhongli could tell by Childe's voice that he was close. He felt Childe's cock swell. He felt Childe's cock throb. He felt Childe's cock pulse. Then, Childe erupted inside Zhongli's ass. He came hard. He came so much that he filled Zhongli's ass with his cum. He came so much that it leaked out around Childe's cock. Childe pulled out of Zhongli's ass. Zhongli dropped to the floor when Childe got up. He searched through his drawers and pulled out what looked like a tail. He walked back over to Zhongli with it in hand.

"Prostrate yourself."

Childe commanded. Zhongli did as he was told. He prostrated himself before Childe. Childe walked behind Zhongli. He wiggled the anal plug inside Zhongli to prevent any more cum leaking out. It had to stay in there. Zhongli cried out a little.

"You're not to take that out without my permission. If you do so, you will get punished."

Childe said, his voice strong and deep. He walked over to the bathing room and turned on the water. Once the water was warm enough, he returned and picked up Zhongli, carrying him to the bath.

"Let's get you washed up, okay?"

Childe said, his tone softening a bit.

"Thank you, Master."

Zhongli replied.

"You're welcome."

Childe said. Zhongli lay down in the bath. The water was warm and soothing. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Childe gently washed him, which made him so comfortable to the point where he fell asleep in the tub. Childe smirked and kissed the brunette's forehead. He quickly cleaned himself up before dressing the two for bed. He put Zhongli's clothes on Zhongli's body and dressed himself up in his clothes. He then led Zhongli to his bedroom. He lay Zhongli down on the bed and then crawled into bed next to Zhongli. He wrapped his arms around Zhongli and hugged him tightly.

"Good night, Zhongli."

Childe said. Zhongli smiled sleepily at him.

"Good night, Master."

Zhongli replied. They both drifted off to sleep.

A/N: there might be a part 2, but I don't know. we'll see cs i got a lotta other stories to work on and update. hope yall enjoyed this tho!

[sweetsweetjellybean]

Summary: Steve finds his note from Max

AN: This was my first fic. So it's a bit rough.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━💌━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Steve is tired. Bone tired. Working at the emergency shelter with Robin has been filling his time and providing a necessary distraction from his worries. Hawkins is a mess. Seeing neighbors and friends suffering is starting to take its toll on him. Everyone has suffered a loss, whether it was a home, a business, or a loved one. No one will be immune this time. The gates are open, and the battle is coming. How many more will die is anyone's guess.

Robin is saying her goodbyes to Vickie as Steve sits in his car waiting to drive her home. He can't help the smile on his face at seeing his best friend falling in love. "Just please let this one thing work out," he mumbles.

His love life is comparable to the town hall at this point. Crumbling and on fire. Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic. He has been hanging around a lot of girls lately. Still, his declaration to Nancy had been a disaster. He poured his heart out to her, and she kissed Jonathan right in front of him. He had done the exact opposite of the advice he always gives to Henderson. He let her see him care. In the end, it didn't matter. He wants her happy; that's what's important. She is strong and never really needed him, to begin with. He had allowed hope to creep in after his conversation with Eddie, but Eddie had been wrong.

Steve knows he needs to let it go and focus on more important things, like his buddy Dustin who is still slightly limping. The kid is taking Munson's death hard. Steve is trying to give Dustin space and let the little guy come to him, but that approach doesn't seem to be working. Steve knows he shouldn't let it go on for much longer. He decides he will sit him down to talk tomorrow. Henderson is a great kid. He isn't ever afraid to be himself. Something that Steve struggled with when he was that age. He was more concerned about looking cool in front of everyone. He doesn't want all this to change Dustin, but how could it not? It's going to change them all.

As he drives, Robin rambles on a mile a minute about her conversation with Vickie. "Did she mention anything about boobies?" Steve interrupts, trying to get a rise out of his friend. "Ugh, Steve, you're the worst." Eyes rolling, she launches back into her story. Steve knows she loves him. He doesn't know what he would have done if he had lost her. Lost any of them. A pang of guilt shoots through him as he thinks, I'm glad it was Eddie and not Dustin. It's wrong to think like that, and he knows it. Eddie doesn't deserve that. A fight is coming, and if we don't win, all of us might end up lying with Munson in The Upside Down. With Max still in the hospital, holding on by a thread, he can't think about any more death.

"Earth to Steve? Hello? Dingus, are you still with me?"

Steve parks in front of Robin's house. He's still dropping her off and picking her up every day."Are you ever going to get your license?"

"Why would I do that? We both know you love the pleasure of my company. Without me, you'd have no social life at all. You would become an outcast and move into the woods, and kids would run away and cry when they saw you. I'm performing a public service by being your friend."

"Oh, that's why I drive you everywhere?"

"Yup! Why, what were you thinking?" Robin asks with a smile.

"I'll pick you up at the same time tomorrow."

"Great, go get some sleep. You're cranky." Robin says as she exits the car.

"I don't know why. It's not like Vecna's ass crack has opened up in the middle of town," Steve yells out the window after her.

"That doesn't mean we need to be in a bad mood. Go wash your hair or something, Harrington," Robin says as she disappears inside her house.

After dropping off Robin, Steve heads over to the hospital to look in on Max, as is his routine these days. Lucas is sitting on a chair next to her bed. His eyes are red-rimmed and tired, and he probably hasn't had a real meal in days. Steve walks over to Max's bed. She looks smaller and younger. Maybe it's because she isn't threatening him with a lawsuit. She still wears her neck brace, and her arms and legs are casted. He lightly brushes her fingers with his own.

"Any change?" he asks Lucas hopefully.

"Nothing," Lucas replies as he drops his head into his hands and starts rubbing his eyes.

"Are you alright, Sinclair? Maybe it's time to go home and rest a bit, yeah?"

"Ehh, that's okay. I want to be here when she wakes up."

"Where's your sister?" He doesn't like Lucas sitting here alone all day.

"She was here for most of the day, but she gets annoying, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Steve says with the corner of his mouth rising slightly. He loves watching Erica give them shit. It was pretty funny as long as it wasn't directed towards him. "Alright, man, call me if anything changes."

"Will do, Steve."

When Steve gets home, he can't wait to crash. He tries to avoid having a conversation with his parents. So he just hollers out a greeting on the way to his room. They are just so oblivious, so uninterested in what is going on around them. Even what was happening with their own son. It was just as well they didn't ask. He wouldn't have known how to explain it anyway. Alone in his room, Steve throws himself down onto his bed. He runs his hands through his hair as exhaustion sets in. He's starting to feel older than his years. After pulling his shirt over his head, he throws it on the floor with all his other dirty laundry. Shit, I'm gonna run out of clean clothes soon. One last thing to do before sleep. He gets up and starts gathering up all the clothes for the wash. He hears a crinkling sound when he picks up a pair of crumpled jeans that are half shoved under his bed. He pulls a brown envelope out of the back pocket.

Max's letter. He staggers back to sit down in a chair at his desk. He had forgotten all about it in the chaos. He smooths out the envelope and holds it flat in both hands. He knows her wishes. He isn't to open it unless she is gone. He wonders if anyone else has opened theirs. He sits staring at it for a while. He can feel the weight of the little girl's words impacting him even though he hasn't read them yet. Screw this! If Max has something to say to me, she can damn well do it while she's still here. He tears open the envelope and begins to read.

Dear Steve,

I wanted to thank you for always protecting me. I always feel safe when you're around. No one has ever made me feel safe like that before. You stayed with me and never let me down. So please don't let anyone tell you that you're not smart or not worth it because you are. And so brave. You're the bravest person I've ever met. You put yourself between us and literal monsters. The boys all look up to you because of it. You always take care of us without thinking of yourself. So it's probably not fair to ask you this, but please keep looking out for them. Especially Lucas. He's going to need you when I'm gone. He's going to blame himself, but it's not his fault. He was there for me. You were all there for me. I just couldn't see it. Please don't let them be sad for too long.

P.S. She's out there. You just have to find her.

Love your Max

XOXO

After carefully folding her letter and putting it in his wallet, he puts his shirt and jacket back on. He grabs his keys and heads out.

Rounding the corner into Max's hospital room, he sees Lucas asleep, practically falling out of the chair. Steve puts his hands on his hips in an exasperated pose and starts barking at Lucas. "What's wrong with you, Sinclair?"

"I told you I'm not leaving her."

Lucas does fall out of the chair now. He scrambles to stand up.

"Get your ass home. I don't want to see you back here until you have had something to eat and a good night's sleep. Are you hearing me?"

"I heard what you said, but you're no good to anyone like this. You're no good to her. You know what's coming. You want to help her? Go home. I'll stay."

"You're such an asshole," Lucas says angrily as tears escape his eyes. He tries to brush his way past, but Steve reaches out with one arm and pulls Lucas into his chest.

"She's going to be alright. I know it." Steve says quietly, trying to give the kid a little comfort. He releases Lucas, who looks at him and nods. A little too choked up to speak, Lucas leaves the room. Hopefully, he doesn't fall asleep riding his bike.

He walks over to Max's bed. He gently smooths some hair away from her face and leaves his hand resting on the top of her head. A gesture he always found comforting when he was small. He leans in a little closer to her.

"I'm here, Max. You're safe. I will stay with you, and I will keep them all safe, I promise you. Just get better, okay?"

He stays that way for a little longer, hoping she can feel the warmth of his hand and the truth of his promise. He sits down on what has to be the most uncomfortable chair in the world. Trying to get into a comfortable enough position to sleep, Steve lets out a long sigh.

"Always the goddamned babysitter," he says with a smile and closes his eyes.

[mod3rnwarh3ro]

The Doctor Is In...

A/N: Hi! First fic! So I've had this in my head for a while and I was inspired by @a-edgar-allan-hoe headcanons of a doctor for 141 and I put my own spin on it. This fic was kinda the reason I made a side-blog for MW because I wanted a dedicated blog for this oc/reader. Also a Recce is the colloquial term for the South African Special Forces. Their Selection is one of the hardest in the world to get into. It consists of a week of sitting in a room, not eating, drinking, or sleeping. Nowadays there's only 1 or two people out of 120 that get through the Selection process nevermind the school training. Pretty brutal. If you guys want to know more about this character/reader please let me know! I'm dropping subtle hints that I want to continue on this tangent.

Summary: Task Force 141 is finally blessed by getting an actual physician on their team. But something's off when Price throws down a file on the guy...

Warnings: Discussions of violence; Suicide ideation (only briefly)

“A doctor? For 141?” came the gruff grumble from under Ghost’s balaclava. “One from South Africa, no less?”

   “What’s the matter with a South African?” asked Soap in his Scottish accent.

   “Nothin’. It’s this one’s track record I’m scrutinizin’. Says they’re SASFA, and a psychologist. This one can’t make up its mind,” Ghost explained as he paged through the docket thrown down by Price.

   “Can’t they go together?” Gaz piped up, leaning over to take a paper.

   “A Recce and a sound mind never go together…” Price stated, folding his arms when his team grabbed papers from the file.

   “Steamin’ bloody Jesus…” Soap muttered with a deep frown etched into his brows. 

   “You sure you want this one, amigo? It says they need ‘to be kept on a tight leash’... We sure they’re a doctor?” Alejandro looked back at the Captain. His face did not show anything besides the seemingly angry furrow that permanently resided on his face.

   “What do they look like? Where’s the photo?” Gaz questioned, paging through the pages for the little photo that comes with most of the soldiers’ files.

   “There’s only one… And they wear a mask in it…” Alejandro sighed with the photo in hand. 

   “Don’t tell me we got another Ghost…” Soap griped, looking over his comrade’s shoulder.

He assumed it had been the doctor after seeing every other face redacted. But he almost wanted to laugh. The man was short, hilariously so. They carried an AK-47 and it looked like they were smiling from under the green balaclava. It almost would’ve looked cute if their pant legs weren’t stained in what looked to be blood.

   “They’re an asset. A great one at that. I’ve seen ‘em stitch up a soldier in thirty seconds while under fire. And they still killed the bastards that did the shooting as they were bandagin’ the soldier up,” Price bragged, as if he was talking about his own child. An information piece they can push on later.

   “So just a really good field medic?” Soap concluded with a shrug, not able to keep the  question from his voice.

   “Nope. A doctor…” Ghost sighed, throwing the PhD in front of the Sergeant. He would’ve poked fun at Soap’s flinching if it weren’t for the Captain speaking up.

   “They’re coming tomorrow at 0700, I expect you lot to be on your best behaviour. And to wipe your assumptions on them. The docket was only meant to familiarise yourselves with what they can do, not their personality.”

Murmurs of affirmation rung through the group, no one speaking up on their reservations on the new guy coming into their ranks. For all they knew, this dude could still prove his worth here. They could really use a doctor for the missions where they couldn’t patch themselves up and they could use another experienced fighter on the field.

They did their daily rounds after the Captain dismissed them, still with questions on their minds about the doctor. From the pages talking about their career as a doctor, it seemed like they were well-liked by both their fellow officers and civilians alike. Not that that means anything, they could be a really good actor. 

Soap slumped down into a chair, holding his MRE packet close to him. Not a minute later and Gaz sat next to him with Alejandro following. They gave each other knowing looks before digging into their meals.

   “What do you think he’ll be like?” Gaz asked, looking over at Alejandro.

   “I don’t know, but from his files, he looks like a mad man. I don’t want to be near that cabrón if he’s gonna be on the field with us,” Alejandro responded, shaking his head and pursing his lips.

   “You should’ve seen the operation photos. He’s ruthless from what I can tell. I’m with Alejandro on this one,” Soap agreed as he packed away for the night.

   “And Ghost is better?” Gaz retaliated with a raised brow.

   “We know Ghost. We don’t know him,” Alejandro said simply, effectively ending the discussion on the doctor.

Her nerves shot through her fingers, every bone in her body telling her to ‘stop this now, go back home’. The Captain made it clear to her that this was her choice, that she could always refuse if she didn’t feel like she could do it. 

Her heart didn’t allow her to refuse. She knew she can’t stay away from this type of life, no matter how hard she tried to. 

She’s tried filling it with a void of helping paediatrics and the elderly. She’s tried filling it by helping her family’s business grow. She’s tried filling it with more and more ways to make money to leave for her family should she ever be KIA. Morbid dreams visited her at night telling her that it would be for the health of her family if she’s gone. 

A dry chuckle escaped her and rang through the empty cabin of the helicopter she agreed to take. That dream had scared her into trying to understand her own twisted mind. She bitterly remembered being overjoyed at the fact that she had, for the first time since that Selection test, been afraid. Those five years opened up many doors for her. She didn’t take any of them.

Her eyes landed on the briefing package next to her, taunting her of her new life. Casting a glance at her phone made her realise she had more than enough time to catch up on every one of her teammates. A growl. Snatching up the files and telling her mind to shut up, she got to work on reading. Task Force 141 awaited her.

The landing woke her up, as she would vehemently claim when Captain Price went into the aircraft to welcome her to the base. And for someone that had the sleep of the dead, she woke up pretty quickly, jumping up and greeting her future Commander. 

   “Captain! It’s good to see you again,” she smiled, hoping he wouldn’t see the strain of trying to pull such an expression.

   “Likewise Badger. Thought I’d never be able to convince ya to come out here,” he retorted with a chuckle.

   “Y’know me sir. I like to stay away,” she said with a shrug.

   “But you still came ‘round.”

   “Can’t leave some missions to just a couple of men, can I?”

   “You’ll find them quite capable…”

   “I know, sir. You do have a knack for things like this. Or people.”

She almost froze when she saw the hangar approaching them. Her heart leapt at her chest, giving way to an almost silent gasp. Price looked back at her. His moustache moved into an upward curve, reassuring her that none of them will judge her, that he will handle the negativity if they dare show it to her.

She grimaced back, taking a deep breath as she trailed behind him. A similar scene to this played out in her head. It was just after she got taken into the SAS, her little frame following Price like a very lost and scared puppy. She would have brought it up to him if it weren’t for the group of men standing in front of the door to the hangar.

They were focused on the Captain, which bought her lungs a few vital seconds to bring oxygen back to her brain again. She stood behind him, cemented into her mind where she tried to calm down. She couldn’t tell you where the onslaught of nerves comes from. But her logical brain piped up and stated that she is still grappling and accepting the fact that her future is changing. At a rapid pace.

   “Come on out, little one,” Price coaxed, moving out the way to give his team a visual on their new doctor. 

Her eyes widened, caught in headlights as she surveyed them all and trying her best not to swallow so hard when her eyes landed on who she assumed to be Simon “Ghost” Riley. He was a giant. One of the first she’s ever cowered before. She took another breath to prepare her voice to project.

   “He’s a woman?!” came a bellow in a Scottish accent.

   “A woman?!” They all synchronised, except for the giant that hung at the back.

That punched her in the gut. Now she lost her train of thought and was left floundering in the deep end. Unfortunately, her way of keeping her head above the water was to crack a few jokes. 

   “U-uh… yes. I do have breasts and l-last time I checked I… I do still have the traits of a woman…” she breathed, glancing down at her chest and the now flustered expressions of the men. “I a-assume you read my file so um. I’m uh. I’m just gonna answer what I can assume y-you all would like to a-ask… Um, yes, I did rip a man’s head off with my hands, no I can't recommend it because it makes a–um, a big mess and considering that at the area of where I fought at the time, I-I could’ve contracted the blood-borne disease, HIV.

   “N-No I don’t sleepwalk and no I-I can’t kill in my sleep. No I… I am not so unhinged that I will slice the, the throat of any person that looks at me w-weirdly. I only became a psychologist for my well-being and found out I enjoyed helping people… I… I uhm. F-for right now, I will only be a practising physician and psychologist for Task Force 141. Sh-Should the need ever arise that I c-come onto the field, I-I take orders seriously and will act on them with no remorse because… Because I have been trained to do so. That w-would explain the phrase, ‘must be kept on a tight leash’. O-okay. Did I answer everything or is there more?” She finished with a sigh, releasing her shoulders from their tense posture. 

Price wordlessly nodded at her to put her mind at ease. She responded with a ghost of a nod and looked back at the team. She would have laughed at their wide eyes and closed off stances. She could have sworn she saw the man she assumed to have the name Gaz gape his mouth only to shut it again. 

   “I’m guessing you’ve had to answer those questions before, chiquita?” The man she assumed to be Alejandro Vargas asked with a frown.

   “Quite a few times,” she gave a dry chuckle and shrugged. “Mostly from the younger soldiers.”

   “Sorry ma’am…” the man with the Scottish accent apologised, looking down at his feet as if his mother just scolded him for being rude

   “Yeah, sorry for makin’ assumptions ma’am,” Gaz echoed the man’s sentiment. 

   “There’s no need for that, I’m sure you’re all wonderful folks once I know you better,” she laughed, waving her hand to dismiss their guilty looks. Wait… she laughed?

   “Right then. Physical exams will start at 0900 once the Doctor’s set up,” Price stepped in, clapping his hands to get the men’s attention. “That’s fine right, kid?” 

She gave a curt nod to her Captain and then to the rest of the team. With that, the debriefing of their new doctor ended, leaving them with more than just embarrassment. Her posture and mannerisms did not reflect her statistics in her file. Nor did her seemingly normal explanation give way to what she was—is like as an operative on the field.